


Desire of Will

by Emmasjournal, Moribirds (Owlteria)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Body Horror, Canon Gay Relationships, Gay Sex, Includes self harm, M/M, Nudity, Original Character(s), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-23 05:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13780653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmasjournal/pseuds/Emmasjournal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlteria/pseuds/Moribirds
Summary: Not too long after their graduation in the Grim Reaper Association, William T. Spears, and Grell Sutcliff's relationship had begun to fall apart, causing them both to do something they would end up regretting. Two years after the "incident" however, Grell and William slowly come to terms of learning that they need forgive each other, and themselves.





	1. Desire of Will, Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moribirds (Owlteria)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlteria/gifts).



The quickened clicking of heels echoed in the empty hallways as a young man dressed in a black suit walked out of the office door, and turned the key to lock it. Seeming irritated as he straightened himself, as a red-haired being of the same age came pacing up to him with a hopeful smile. The being’s face was decorated with a pale foundation. Though she was smiling, it appeared her heart was troubled. She steadily approached the man in the suit as it seemed she held papers and a red leather notebook for him.

“Hello, Wil-I-I mean, Mr. Spears. Fancy seeing you here.” She exclaimed happily towards him. However, he only seemed to give a twinge of anger towards her. The moment felt like an eternity as she waited for him to respond, and her smile faded away. 

Twiddling her bright red bangs with her finger and thumb, she stuttered, “R-right...”

She flipped through the papers in her hands and pulled out a filed one with a red, circle stamp mark that read “Completed”� on it. She gestured it towards Mr. Spears for him to grab.

“I-I hope you don’t mind, but even registration for death can’t be too late to turn in for the night, right M-Mr. Spears?” She wasn’t comfortable calling him that as she struggled to make his new address was hard for her to stomach. She looked away, a nervous grunt escaping her lips, by she resumed her sharp smile towards her manager as he took the paper out of her hands, much to her surprise.

Mr. Spears began, “You failed to bring this in on time.”� Stern. That was one way to describe him from the redhead's perspective. She seemed to shrink a little in size in her mind compared to his glance suddenly turning an ever-so-slightly less harsh look. He sighed and placed her report under his arm, along with a few other collected files.

“Good work. You’ll begin your next shift by eight AM tomorrow morning.” His monotone voice echoing in the redhead's ears as he stated her position. Mr. Spears, avoiding eye contact as much as possible with his subordinate, finished locking the door behind him, and was about to get moving. Yet the redhead wasn’t finished with him just yet.

“H-how was your day, William?” Her voice cracked an ounce when she said his first name. She put her hand to her mouth when she realized what she just said, and to her supervisor. Of all people, let alone Reapers. She fidgeted at her glasses nervously.

Mr. Spears stopped in his tracks. If looks could kill, his subordinate would be dead three times over. Yet he knew better than to go further.

“Honestly.” He sighed angrily. “How many times do I need to tell you. You aren’t to address me by my first name, Grell Sutcliff.�

“I...yes, Mr. Spe-”� She couldn’t even finish her own sentence as Mr. Spears continued.  
“Go home.” � He interrupted. He adjusted his glasses. He walked off, as Grell hung her head low. 

“I’m sorry.” Grell croaked out her throat, head hanging in sorrow as she shuffled her shoes together. 

He ignored her apology and continued to walk off. The redhead could only look back at him longingly. Mr. Spears, no, William. She used to allow her to call him by that name. Something that ended her calling him that name shouldn’t have happened, yet it occurred anyways. Her thoughts, however, were instantly interrupted when a hand gently patted her shoulder. Tears threatened to form in her eyes, but she could care less if someone saw her in this weakened state. Her thick, eye-liner make-up left streaks of black along her cheeks as she turned her head to see who it was.

“Ms. Grell?” It was someone she knew. That’s a good start. At least if she looked horrible they would understand, and maybe even leave her alone after whatever it was they were going to say. He was about a few inches shorter than her. Dusty, grayish-black hair. His eyes showed concern about her.

“Is something wrong?” He spoke. 

“Oh! Ronald!” Grell tried to keep her composure, as well as wipe the make-up from her face. The younger reaper reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief for her, but she denied it, gently though. Ronald could tell that wasn’ t like her to do so. 

“Y-yes. I’m fine. Just, stress just got ahold of me tonight.” She wiped her eyes again.

“No offense Ms. Grell,” he said, twiddling his forefingers, “...but you’re kind of a bad liar.” Ronald responded. 

She didn’t even bother fighting back. Now the younger knew something was definitely wrong. “You know much about me already, don’t you? And you’re only a year in your training. Amazing.”� She sighed.

Ronald put the piece of cloth back into his pants pocket, and adjusted his trainee glasses.

“I was just a little worried about you is all. You, you haven’�t been as...active as you usually are.” He tried his hardest to not make eye-contact. Yet Grell gently placed her hand on his shoulder in response. 

“You shouldn’t worry about me, Ronald. It’s not really worth your time. I have a feeling you’re here for another reason too?”� She asked, wiping the thick, black smudged makeup from her cheeks. 

Ronald shrugged. “Not really.”� He fiddled with his glasses in a nervous manner. “I just finished my last class at midnight. Though, Pops ran into me a-and...” 

The mention of this “Pops”� made Grell jump in surprise a little. 

“The-the-the guy who makes all of our glasses? He asked me to ask you if you’d like to meet up with him during B lunch tomorrow?” 

Grell could tell Ronald was holding something in his throat. She glared down at him. Not an angry look, “just disappointed,” making Ronald stand frozen for a solid five seconds. 

“Anything else, Ronnie?”� Calling him that name made the poor boy’s face turn pink. He shuffled his hair a little, a nervous habit he often did if he was telling a lie. He was practically like a puddle to Grell as his new teacher. See-through, at best.

Ronald stuttered. “I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to tell. He told me not to.” It was his posterior that made Grell take pity on the smaller reaper. 

“Alright. You win.” Grell said, letting a gentle pout escape her lips. 

Ronald was about to shake everything off by wrapping it all up in a bow and making a small run for it kind of walk down the hall. Yet, once again, his senior wasn’t finished, much to his dismay.

“But!”� She began. “As your senior, you are to NOT hold any of the secrets you have that involve me. Understood?”

Ronald hated it when she acted like this. He didn’t have a way to escape this though, seeing how she had him cornered in the worst practical way.

“Yes, sir.” He mumbled out.

Grell clenched her fists. “That’s ‘Yes ma’am!”

“Y-yes ma’am!” He corrected himself in a desperate attempt to save himself.

Grell realized then how unnecessary her outburst was, and only glanced to the side as the senior and junior reapers stood in front of each other in an awkward manner. Ronald was the first to try to break the silence and awkwardness, but Grell beat him to it.  
“Thank you. For telling me about Pops I mean.”� Much to Ronald’s surprise, his Superior was sounding very defeated. Her head was hanging a bit, and Ronald would have made the choice to fight back and confront Grell. Yet he knew better than to do so.

“Alright. Goodnight, Ms. Grell.” The young junior responded.

Grell just turned and walked towards the exit of the long, bright hallway. The younger, smaller reaper wanted to do something further, yet he repeated and walked in the opposite direction to exit the building.

Grell was honestly surprised by Pops’ invite. That old codger was a rare sight to see for anyone in the London Reaper Dispatch. And to invite her to all reapers. He must just want to check to see if she wasn’t going to do anything crazy. Or crazier than anything she would usually do. Or maybe he just had another boring speech to tell Grell to keep her spectacles. Whatever the reason, Grell could care less. She just wanted a nice, tall glass of port to calm her nerves.

As she closed the door to her home, placed her dress shoes to the side of the door, and stepped into the kitchen. Pouring herself a glass, she couldn’t help but feel numb as the red liquid it, near to the brim. She knew she was overdoing it. Yet after all that had happened, she thought to herself, taking in a small sip. Grell only felt a slight ebb of her numbness fade away. Yet it disappeared as the thought came to her mind again. I should have known he would ignore me after all these months. Another sip as she decided to move away from the sharp objects in the room, and sat in the chair near the fireplace.

It was only a small summer romance. Mr. Spears and I only had a few moments before his Napoleonic Mission five years ago.

Another large swig of port went down her throat as she tried too hard not to let herself think about her man of interest. It seemed to be the one thing that had kept her from doing harm to herself. Not like she wasn’t after downing a quarter of a bottle of the deep red drink. The port only caused her entire body to go numb, being completely void of feeling. Maybe this was how William always felt? As of lately, he wasn’t one to ever show any sort of emotion at all. Grell couldn’t come up with a recent memory when William had even shown her a glance of comfort.  
Back when I and Will were new recruits, he smiled. Yet it was only to comfort others. He and I would often be paired up with each other when it came to the harder jobs of Reaping Souls. Those were nice times. Her mind went blank, but just as the moment ended, Grell took one last gulp of the red liquid before placing the glass aside on the side table of her chair. Putting her face into her hands, her knees being the support for holding her head up, she gazed longingly at the fire, flickering in aimless directions. It reminded her of her actions.  
William…

“It’s been so long.”� She said to herself, though it was clear she wasn’t meaning to talk to her own reflection. 

Last time we were on a mission together was in 1802. Grell thought to herself. A common case, as are most rookie recruit missions are. A family of four died in a carriage crash. Cause of deaths were all most likely due to the carriage toppling to its left when the driver led the horses away from a mother and her son from walking in the middle of the road. She sighed and leaned into her right hand on the armrest of her decorated chair. The fire reflecting into her red, decorated glasses.

I wasn’t too happy about the case of the souls I was given, which were the children of the family. Two little girls. A four-year-old, and a two-year-old. William even asked the Dispatch if he and I could trade the files so he could test his ability to reap children’s souls. 

Removing the gloves of the uniform she was forced to wear, though she did prefer the woman’s outfit the reapers were offered. Not that there were many women reapers.

Wanting to test out his numbness and non-companionate nature, they agreed and decided for me to reap the parents, while he reaped the children. A part of me wants to know if he was pitying me and my ability to feel for those two girls.

Walking over to the washroom, Grell pulled off her black suit. Placing it onto the coat-rack along the way to the tub. She wished she wasn’t forced to wear things according to the Council’s rules, and how she wished she would be allowed to wear those black and red high-heels she bought in London. Yet that didn’t matter anymore. No one accepting her for who she was.

It was just him and me for a few years afterward. It was clear that he and I were in love. Yet it didn’t seem to go anywhere, with the exception of a kiss here and there.

Undressing as she closed the door to the bathroom, the redhead pulled the remains of her clothing off, the exception of the white lacey bra covering her top-half of her flat chest. Turning the right nob of the tub, she slipped off her undergarments and stepped into the still running pool of water.

William never seemed to take the thought of us being together too seriously. She brought a scoop of water to her chest and splashed it to be cleaned. Rubbing her freckled arms and shoulders, she grabbed her bar of soap, and started to rinse herself of the day’s long labor.  
It all began so sweetly. She pondered as she ran her fingers through the clear water.

Due to a shortage of reapers in Paris, and with the Napoleonic War on the horizon, he had to leave me to perform his duties. Because of the population of mostly women on the force of The Paris Reaper Dispatch, I couldn’t help but worry about him falling for another...falling for a girl while working. It wasn’t long When he was put into pairings with a woman.

Grell’s blank stare at her own reflection in the bathtub made her close her eyes in sorrow. She then pinched her nose shut, and dunked her head back into the water, gently submerging her whole body for a full ten seconds. She felt the water fill up her ears, and the air escape her mouth.

It wasn’t until I visited him in 1809 when I discovered my worst fear had come true. 

It took her a moment, but she pulled herself out of the warm water, not like it would do harm if she stayed in longer. At least that’s how she imagined it would be. She lathered her shoulder-length hair with her cleanser and dunked her head into the water again. Not letting her whole head dip into the tub again, she pondered,  
He knew I loved him... Grell opened her fluorescent eyes in a sorrowful fashion, and she lifted her head from the body of water.

She was trying to feel sorry for herself. Though, it became harder and harder to for her to cry. Not wishing to make herself prune up, Grell slipped out of her bath and made a glance at her own reflection in the fogged mirror. She wiped the steamed glass with her palm and looked at herself. Her skin wasn’t white, porcelain any longer. Instead, her freckles started to peer from the heavy makeup she often tried to cake over her face. Grell would tend to hide from others with the foundation, but that wasn’t what she was fixated on. It was her hair. It seemed to have grown since her last mission with her supervisor. 

Maybe William would, She interrupted her thought. Grell glanced at her own lower body, and then back at herself in the mirror, holding a lock of her shoulder-length crimson hair. Letting out a sigh, she decided to get her Death Scissors from the pocket of her black suit on the floor.

“Might as well put these to good use.” Grell took no time in between to trim her hair to a shorter length. Though it did pain her to cut off what she had worked hard on since 1799 to grow out. Yet she knew it was for the best. The Council would approve of it. Maybe, just maybe. She thought as she combed away from the excess strands away from her neck and shoulder area. Noticing the streak of red being swiped onto the side of her upper arm, she couldn’t help but notice that there was a teensy-tiny slit along the tip of her finger, possibly caused by her using the scissors. She stared at it as it gently flowed from the cut flesh. Though the thought of putting the finger into her mouth had escaped to the back of her mind, as she got a towel and wrapped it around the small wound to stop the bleeding as she gathered the medical supplies from the left shelf beside the bookshelf around the living room. Grell could care less whether she was naked. It was her own house anyways.

So red.

Just before wrapping the bandage around the tip of her finger, she soon realized she didn’t feel any pain when the scissors cut her appendage. In fact, it wasn’t until it was bleeding that she could see the blood pour in a gentle manner from her cut that she even noticed it. There was not a single ounce of pain afterward either. Was Grell truly going numb? The red grim reaper’s vision through her glasses blurred as she tried to squeeze the tip with her thumb under the index. Some red blood tissue gathered around it and out came a droplet.

I still can’t feel it.

Grell let out a sigh and wrapped the small bandage around her finger. Brushing off the small breakdown, Grell decided it was a good time to go off to bed. It was then she realized that she would only have a few hours dedicated to sleep tonight. Making it up to her room along the hallway, she slipped into her red silk nightgown and placed her glasses on the right side of the bed. Sinking into the covers, cool to the touch, she only stared at the wall to her left. Emotional exhaustion got the best of her that night, as she drifted into sleep.


	2. Desire of Will, Chapter Two

It was already midnight, yet he was meant to evaluate more paperwork as the late hours ticked by. The aloof reaper had leaned his back against the closed door and kicked his legs in the air to flip off his dress shoes. Picking them up and setting the pair against the side of the wall, William waltzed up to the desk of this large flat and slumped himself down into the chair. Adjusting his glasses as he flipped the folder under his arm, and placed it onto the table, he pulled out a pen and quill to sign his name for Supervisor Approval along the back of each record for the deceased earlier today and tonight. William was starting to realize how hard this “Supervisor” job was going to be. He knew it wasn’t hard to simply sign papers. It was the reapers he often had to keep an eye on, reapers like Grell, on the dot. He had hoped that giving Grell a junior like Ronald Knox to look after would get her to stop her constantly fawning over William’s every grace. Little did he know, it would only make things more agonizing. He accidentally snapped his quill as the thought of her annoying him to only get him to notice how much better she was doing towards her job. It was as if she was just using the poor kid to gather up her reputation to look good again. With Grell pestering him about her doing her best to please William’s expectations only drove him to annoyance. He replaced the quill, and couldn’t help but let out a sigh, as in his mind, he reluctantly admitted he was pleased, inwardly about her always getting her paperwork in, even if it was as late as tonight.

BBBRRRING!!! 

The telephone in his flat began to ring, causing him to sit up straight instantly in surprise. The reaper adjusted his glasses and picked up the phone to his ear.

“This is Spears.” He started.

“William. Nice to know you’re still awake.” The voice responded, making William’s eye uncharacteristically widen.

“Pops, I mean, Mr. Anderson?”

“No need to be formal, William. Sorry for disturbing your sleep. I guess it’s like me to call you at one in the morning.” Mr. Anderson chuckled.

“What? No. You didn’t wake me at all. I was just finishing up everything.”

“Well, glad to hear that.” Mr. Anderson assured.

William knew that it wasn’t like the Spectacles Director to call anyone, let alone speak to even a supervisor so casually, so why was he calling him? Especially at such a time as an hour after midnight?

“I, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but…what’s the reason for- ?” William said before Pops intervened.

“Oh, right. It took me all day to gather the courage to ask, but how about you and I get some lunch tomorrow?”

William paused for a moment in confusion. He wanted to say something, but Pops beat him to it.

“For old time’s sake? I mean it’s fine if you don’t wish to. I was just thinking since I have some time off, maybe we could catch up on some things that have gone by for the past year or so.” Pops said. He waited for a moment for William to respond to the decision.

William fiddled with his glasses, and said, “I…I’m sorry. I don’t know i-if I have any time to spare for tomorrow. I just want to get my work done with by tomorrow evening, and that includes working during the lunch hours.”

“Ah. I understand.” Pops answered assuring there were no hurt feelings. “Maybe another time then?”

“Yes. Maybe. Again, I’m sorry to have to turn down your offer.” He wanted to tell the truth. If anything, he really needed the emotional support. Not as if he would ever wish to admit it.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’m sorry for calling you so late at night.” Pops stated.

William sighed heavily. “It’s no problem at all Mr. Anderson.” Yet just as he was about to move the phone away from his ear, Pops said something unexpected, “I hope you’re feeling okay, William. Have a good night.”

“Yes. Of course.” William answered, nodding his head. The line was cut off, and he placed the phone back on the stand. Feeling. The Grim Reaper leaned back in his chair. Yet “feeling” wasn’t the main reason why he felt so frustrated. William couldn’t help but lay the side of his head against the desk in the room of his flat. He could barely remember the last time he ever showed anybody an ounce of his emotion, not like William was known for it. Except that was a lie. He remembered it very well. 

It wasn’t until Grell begun to reveal more of her true personality, William could start to compensate the ability to have feelings of falling in love with another. He couldn’t understand as to why he fell for her flamboyant nature. Grell wasn’t exactly his preferred gender when it came to attraction, at least not at the time, but it was evident by how she was clearly fawning off of him to catch his attention. Though it never showed, to his surprise, it actually worked, as he continued to find her stature, her radiance, and confidence reigned supreme in his eyes. It was all much to his surprise, pleasant, to be in love. 

Yet after what she had done to him? How could anyone forgive her after that? 

 

“Grell!” William yelled in anger across the field. Through the long grass, he tried his best to look professional in front of his other peers, yet Grell continued to storm away from him, making the moment even more embarrassing for him.

“Grell Sutcliff! I order you to stop!” Finally starting to catch up with the redhead, he reached out and grabbed her arm, struggling to pull her back to make eye contact, until she turned her head, glaring at him. 

“What has gotten into you!?” He demanded to know. 

“Stop playing dumb with me, William.” She tried to yank her arm from his grip, saw scythe in her other hand. She pulled it out and pointed it at his face, causing his skin to pale, and step back, releasing her arm.

“What is the meaning of this, Grell?!” William said, clearly not caring for the concern about his peers, though they were far behind. “And put that thing away! You know how dangerous it can be! Especially in front of your supervisor!”

“You cannot fool me, William,” Grell said, though it sounded more like a hound’s growl. She glared at him with anger he had never seen on her face before.

“I...what?” William stuttered. He tried to step back, but Grell grabbed the collar of his suit and yanked him to her face, almost shaking in ferocity.

“Tell me, William, because I’m curious…” She held her crimson red scythe close to his face. William’s eyes widened in realization.

“...Did I satisfy you before you left me for that French maid?”

“G-Grell.” William choked out. It was getting harder for him to speak, but he had to think of something to reply, and fast. There was little to no telling what the reaper in front of him could do in such an angered state.

“Grell, please!...You’re-!” William tried to calm her before she slapped his cheek and kicked him to the hard ground. Though it didn’t show, the reaper feared for his wellbeing. He was aware Grell had fallen to him before in a fight, but he also knew well that Grell was a powerful being, capable of slicing a soul in half with one wave of her scythe.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know about your little fling with your ‘partner’ William?” She kneeled down to his level, still giving him that threatening glare of hatred. “Did she satisfy you?”

 

His glare softened a little, and he started to understand what Grell was talking about. The next thing he would manage to say hopefully would save him. “G-Grell, please…”

She kicked his stomach as he tried to get up, knocking the air out of him as she let out a booming, “No!” Knocking him down again. She stepped down with much force onto his chest 

“Listen to me, Grell!” William yelled back, trying to push her foot which stood firmly on his chest off. “You’re losing yourself! You need to calm down!”

“Shut up!” She pointed her scythe at his face, her shakily heaving in pure, jealous rage. “You can’t understand how I feel! You can’t even tell how much you made…” Grell choked a sob for a moment, a tear falling loose landing onto William’s bruised cheek. More droplets fell onto the ground as Grell covered her eyes.

She croaked out, “How much you made a fool of me…”

William was able to push the leg off of his stomach as Grell was distracted. It would have been wiser if he made a run for it, but a good friend of his was at her weakest state. After all, he would have made a fool of himself even more than Grell if he left the one he loved behind like that.

“Grell...Had I known how strongly you felt about this…” He said, holding her pale face in his hand, thumbing away the tears. She moved her head away from his palm stubbornly though, as she was still furious with him.

“You belong to me, William.” She said, choking on an inevitable sob. “And only me!”  
William, not wishing to anger her further or create a scene, grabbed Grell’s left wrist holding the saw and gently twisted it to her side.

“I don’t belong to anyone!” William yelled angrily, though it pained him to act in such a way towards her. “I am not an object to be won.”

Her face then started to soften as her sharp-toothed scowl, as it twitched into a pained, almost broken frown as William soon gently let go of her wrist, and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“But you’re right,” William admitted, much to Grell’s surprise. “It was wrong of me to make a fool of you.”

“After everything...after all we’ve been through...you threw that all away just to sleep with another woman!? Does that mean our first kiss meant nothing to you?!” She said waiting for any kind of response. Nothing but a sorrowful glance to the side was all she received. 

“I...why…?” Tears began to gently stream along her pale cheeks. “Wh-what did I do wrong, that made you sleep with her? That day, when you and I were sleeping next to each other in Pops’ office, when we kissed for the first time...It felt as if I finally had your heart.” Grell held her face in her fingers with widened, scared eyes. “What did I do wrong to make you sleep with ...with a woman like Desiree?! Of all women?!” She said, nearly screaming as tears fell freely from her eyes. 

William glance to the side sorrowfully, then leaned in a few inches closer to her face, tempted to hold her. “Grell... Desiree was a good friend and my partner. She understood how I felt about you, and how I felt about women. I thought by now you might understand that.” Grell’s eyes opened a little, seething and scowling. He lifted his hand to try and hold her cheek again, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re not.” Grell accused, slapping his hand away from her face. “You used me, William. And I will never forgive you for that.” She growled. 

“Grell, don’t do this!” William demanded but was only met with her headbutting his forehead. Just as he was recovering, he glanced up at her as the blood trickled down his nose. 

“You knew I cared for you! And you threw me away the night you took her!” Tears flooded her eyes and fell like beads from her face. 

With those words, William realized then and there as to why the redhead was attacking him. 

Without even flinching, Grell grabbed the reaper’s hand with an iron grip. His hand balled up into a fist to try to and shook to escape her grasp, but it was no use. Shaking as she held his wrist, her fluorescent eyes burning with hatred. She held his wrist in her grip away from her face, as he expressed fear in his eyes.

“I won’t let another girl take you away from me, William.” She growled under her breath. She slowly lifted up her scythe and twisted his arm around behind his back. She kicked him fiercely onto the ground and held him down with her high heeled boot. William hit her leg repeatedly to get her to get off of him, but he froze when she kneeled down with a Cheshire, insane, menacing grin. 

“And I’ll make sure you never will!”

Raising her hand into the air with her saw, she aimed for his genitalia and brought it down with a psychopathic grin. He didn’t know how, but he quickly blocked the blow with his calve. As she struck him, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his voice escaped him as he tried to let out a scream of pain. Blood sprayed into Grell’s face, as he closed his eyes and grimaced in pain. 

 

His eyes then snapped open as he soon noticed he was no longer with Grell. He looked around frantically as William could soon see, though a little blurred as his glasses were lopsided on the bridge of his nose. Straightening them up, he then shuffled his neatly combed brunet hair in his fingers. Did he take his medication tonight? He glanced at his clock above his desk. Four AM, so in simpler terms, he hasn’t. 

It wasn’t since that Thomas Wallis incident that had could remember having a good night’s sleep with that reluctant soul not wishing to accept death. Yet as he drank the pills, William only pinched the bridge of his nose, still seeing the face Grell made as she also hacked off his leg with her saw. He shuttered at the thought and set down the glass. Something cracked in Grell’s mind that made her attack him like that. Grell’s words in from their argument that night were nailed into his mind. You used me. And I’ll never forgive you for that!

Could he blame her, though? Despite being such a hard shell to crack around her exterior, Grell was also fragile in her heart, and with a broken mind like hers, there really was no telling what could happen afterward. He knew there would be consequences to his actions, for sleeping with another….with Desiree, but didn’t he have the right to find love? He pondered on that topic for a moment. He did find love before, but he didn’t see it when it was in front of his face. Over six years ago, he did have someone to hold, but he did throw all that away. 

Staring at the ceiling in the darkness of his room, William took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes in frustration. The way Grell had been acting as of recently got him more enraged as if he knew it was his fault for her acting in such a way, and beating the life out of her was his punishment. Yet he hardly knew any other way to react. He was furious about what she did. She smiled...Grell smiled when she inflicted pain on his leg, but… blaming her to him seemed unreasonable. He did love her. Why he couldn’t hate her was the question lingering in his mind. 

As the hours ticked by, William drifted into sleep, though all he remembered was lying awake until eight AM. He raised himself to sit up straight in bed, and just as he slipped his glasses on, he walked towards his desk and put his hand on the phone. As he lifted it to his ear, and dialed in the numbers, hesitantly. As he reached the other line, he spoke, 

“Mr. Anderson. Yes. I believe I will be taking that lunch offer with you if it’s alright with you. Yes. Thank you. I’ll see you then. Thank you. Bye.”


	3. Desire of Will, Chapter Three

Flecks of snow begun floating down from the bright yet cloud covered sky as two reapers, Grell and Ronald, stared down from their perch at the people, walking around with their umbrellas and winter clothing covering them from the bitter coldness of the wind. Grell soon opened a little red, leather rose pad, and read over the particular deaths happening within the area. Walking over the very edge of the rooftop’s tiles, and closed the book precisely with her fingers. Pulling out her scythe from her side under her overcoat, Grell leaped from a rooftop and into the streets as the younger reaper followed, not expecting her to move so quickly, after her. She walked through the crowd of people surrounding the long street of shops, and horse-drawn carriages, while Ronald struggled to keep up. 

“Come now. Much to see, Ronald.” Grell said in a sardonic manner, hand on her hip, scissor scythe in the other. 

Ronald squeezed his way past the people without trying to touch or bump into them, not helping it when he subsequently tripped over a lady’s foot. He landed face first on the hard, frozen dirt. Giving an eye roll, Grell walked up to her apprentice and placed a hand on his shoulder as he tried to get up. 

“You wish for me to hold your hand across the road, Ronald?” She spoke, lifting a curious brow. 

“What?! No! I-I Just…” Ronald stuttered before she pulled him up to his feet. 

“Oh relax.” She said waving her hand in annoyance. As her apprentice got up, she shuffled her red hair in her fingers, looking in the direction of two men ruggedly dressed walking down an alleyway. One held a knife, and both had their fists clenched as they made their way into the dark hallway between the two buildings. 

Adjusting her glasses, Grell hastily grabbed Ronald’s shoulder, who was trying to wipe off the snow and dirt ladened on his pants and suit. 

“Let’s move,” Grell ordered. She let go of Ronald’s shoulder and began to speed walk towards the alleyway, leaving Ronald behind. 

“He-hey, wait!” The junior said as his mentor hurried ahead. He ran after her but stumbled when he was about to approach her, as she disappeared into the darkness of the alley. “Senior Sutcliff, wait!” 

“Hurry up!” She snapped, looking back at him. As he quickly walked towards his senior, he was not expecting what he would see next. 

“What the…?” Ronald whispered. Grell nudged his elbow with her as she approached him. “Why aren’t there any…?”

“What do you mean?” She asked. 

Ronald placed his hand over his neck as the sound of bone-crunching punching blows to the face landed on the victim’s face between the two thugs. Grell raised her brow in confusion, wondering what the big deal was. She knew that as Reapers, they were to be numb to anything and hold no sympathy for anyone. Easier said than done, with Grell being the exception. From humans being beaten to death, like how a certain Jack Wilson Murphy in front of them, or even the slightest glance at a homeless woman dying at childbirth, a Reaper could not, or should not be able to react in such a way as Ronald was. Then a thought occurred to her.

 

“Ah, yes.” She stated, glancing at a gently terrified Ronald. “They don’t teach you these things in the academy classes.”

“I know we’re supposed to be numb to these sort of things, but I never expected things like this to happen,” Ronald said, then looking away as the final blow was launched at the victim’s face. 

His face bloodied and bruised to the bone, Jack Wilson Murphy was dropped onto the ground, and a foot of his perpetrator was pushed into the hard floor of the alley. 

Grell sighed and pulled out her scissor scythe, “Nothing short of the usual death around these areas.” She shrugged. 

After a few moments, the taller thug held up a knife to Jack’s throat, and without even a blink of an eye, sliced the poor man’s neck open. He knelt down to his victim’s face with a malicious smirk on his lips, and said, 

“This is what happens to those who can’t make promises for the loans I give.” He then kicked Jack’s jaw. A few teeth falling out as the iced floor became a deep red. 

As the two thugs left Jack Murphy for dead, Grell gave her trainee a signal to start moving. Grell admitted to herself, she wasn’t thrilled about these kinds of deaths. They often bored her to tears. Yet, she also knew that the one good thing about all of this was that Ronald’s “cute” antics entertained her boring life, at least sometimes. 

“Ronald, would you do the honors?” She gestured for him to do the reaping. 

“What? Me?! Why me?!” Ronald exclaimed, taking a step back. “I, I hardly know how to wield a scythe, let alone how to properly use it.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Ronnie.” She grumbled. “How do you know if you can’t wield a scythe if you have never tried?”

“I...” Ronald tried, almost in a desperate attempt to escape Grell’s wrath.

“Do you want to be a Reaper or not, Ronald?” She folded her arms and gave him a certain look. The same she gave him last night, which he still dreaded being looked at in such a way. 

The clock from a few miles away was about to tick closer and closer to the time Jack Murphy needed to die. Grell opened her pocket watch and her eyes widened. It was already 11:00 am. He was due in less than twenty minutes. 

“Ugh! All you have to do is stab his chest with your scythe. If you can’t even do that then you might as well-!” Grell paused as she saw that Ronald took out his training scythe, and sheepishly walked over to the man, slowly bleeding out. 

The younger Reaper knelt down to Jack, saying comfortingly, “Don’t worry. It will be over soon.” And steadily raising his training sickle into the air above his head, he landed it dead center into the man’s chest. Jack gasped for air as the scythe pierced his heart, and saw the record flying out from the wound. 

“There,” Ronald said, wiping the blood splatter off his training glasses with his sleeve. “Are you happy now?” 

“It’s not over yet,” Grell answered, holding her scythe in a defensive demeanor. 

Within a moment, Jack’s record was starting to panic. Ronald held up his glasses to see in Jack’s records, just passed his earlier years, there was a woman. The man held her seemingly rounded stomach, only to approach a memory of the child she seemingly birthed. Tears came to Jack’s eyes as he unblinkingly sees the child he raised to take his first steps and hold his hand. 

Grell could only glance to the side as she saw the record play out, and see that this man must have needed the money from those thugs just to keep his family going. Ronald clutches his scythe tighter in his hand, knowing that there wasn’t a thing he could do, as the significance of this man’s life wasn’t to be used to the world’s existence. Yet that didn’t mean less for his sympathy towards the man.

Yet, seeing how the man was such a good father to his wife and child, distracted the young Grim Reaper, as the records reached the skies, it started to come down, and aim for Ronald’s head. 

“Ronald!” Grell shouted as she grabbed his suit, and yanked him out of the way, just as it hit the ground with a hard thud. Ronald could only stare up in surprise as the victim’s cinematic record had just tried to attack him. The man had seemed to accept his death so easily at first. Now he was trying to reclaim a body which was almost impossible to possess. Grell kept Ronald behind her, as she held her scythe with her arm in defensive mode as she kept her eyes glued to the soul, trying to find something to possess. It swirled it's recorded memories together, and then aimed for Ronald again. Yet Ronald had other plans. The smaller reaper ran out of Grell’s circle of defense, and much to her surprise, and headed for the record without a second thought. He pulled his sickle out and swiped aimlessly at Jack’s soul. 

Not being able to hit anything, Ronald ran past the nearest building, completely out of Grell’s sight, and ran as fast as he possibly could, luring the strips of the soul to follow him to be able to send his soul off at the right time and place, when he reached the streets. The boy looked at himself, smiling as he could see the record still coming after him. His plan was starting to work. He then ran to the left, heading for the open road where Jack Murphy would have a hard time finding him with the crowd of people in the streets. Yet he skidded to a halt, much to his surprise, he was caught at a dead end. He must have taken a wrong turn! 

The soul was nearing closer, almost at lightning speed, making Ronald hold out his scythe in fearful defense, but then the records wrapped around his arms, causing him to hit the ground, not hard enough though to knock him out. Ronald’s glasses hit the ground to the side, as it pulled him closer and closer. Ronald’s eyes widened when a strip found it’s way to his face, to about to enter into his mind, but within a second, a pair of red scissors slashed at the soul’s record strip. 

“Grell!” Ronald shouted. 

“Stand behind me!” The red reaper shouted and cut the strip leading to Ronald’s arms. As the records backed away from the strike, recovering from the pain, Grell yanked Ronald behind her with the time given. She glared at the memories of Jack, as they tried to wrap around her torso, but she instantly struck it, slicing the record left and right, almost tearing it to shreds. Yet she soon formed a ball of blue light with her scissors, and threw it at Jack’s memories, sending his soul into the skies above. She let out a heavy sigh and soon turned her attention towards Ronald. 

Thankful his short Grim Reaper life was spared, Ronald wrapped his fingers around the left lens of his spectacles and put them immediately onto the bridge of his nose. 

“Thanks, Sutcliff. I thought I was going to be dead meat in an instant.” Ronald stated. No response. Grell just glared down at him with her arms crossed. 

“I mean, I’m sorry, Sutcliff. I-I should have just stayed with you.” He corrected himself. Still, nothing came from her lips. 

“I-It was stupid of me to try and get it away from us-!” Ronald managed to say, just before his collar was grabbed and brought inches away from Grell’s face, her face practically screaming in silence with blistering rage. 

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you!?” She screamed at her junior. 

“S-Sutcliff…?” Ronald stuttered. 

“You could have been possessed! Or worse! That man could have left you traumatized, never being able to sleep properly for as long as your reaper life! If he fully possessed you, you wouldn’t be able to move, or even talk! A mortal being with two souls is forever to live as a vegetable! Do you want me to lose you?!” Grell yelled out, her hands firmly gripped onto Ronald’s shoulders, yet her grasp loosened as she saw the fear in Ronald’s eyes. She let go of him and shuffled her hands. 

Letting out a sigh, said uttered a small, “I’m sorry.” 

Another moment of silence between the two reapers, Ronald still recovering from the shock of near possession. 

“Ronald...lets... get this over with…” Grell said, shuffling her red hair. 

Not wishing to argue any further, Ronald did his job, looking over the remains of the man’s soul, making sure nothing was destroyed by the impact of Grell’s scythe, which it wasn’t, and stamped his file with a “Completed” red stamp. Closing the book, Ronald glanced over to his Senior and got up, showing her that the job was finished. Grell nodded and the two headed off, stepping over the dead body of Jack Wilson Murphy, and disappearing as the two traveled into the crowds of the streets. 

 

A few minutes had passed, and the Senior and Junior Reapers had decided to sit on top of an apartment building to pass the time. Ronald looked over the other souls which had to be collected during the afternoon, and Grell simply glanced down at the people strolling by. Riding on their horses, looking at shop windows, just the average day as the snow lightened up while the day lets on. Ronald pursed his lips as Grell stared down at a woman with her husband and three children. A baby, and seemingly a pair of twin girls dressed up adorably in matching winter clothes. 

Grell couldn’t help but feel sorrowful envy when she saw the family happily take a winter morning walk along the street of buildings and shops. It was her dream to find a husband and have children, except...being stuck in her body was...a bit of a problem. That meant it would never happen. Lost in her train of thought, Grell put one leg over the other, and gazed into the sky, gray and dull, yet somehow bright. Almost like her…

“What you did back there...A few minutes ago I mean…” Ronald got her out of her daze with what he said. She turned her head in his direction slowly. 

“I... I really appreciate you saving my arse back there.” The boy said, shuffling his fingers together. 

“Eh,” Grell responded, “It was noth-”

“That’s not true.” Ronald interrupted her. 

“Ronald…” Grell sighed. 

“You...you urged me to do it. And even when I messed up, you didn’t leave me to deal with it on my own. I know it wasn’t nothing.” The young reaper looked down at his intertwined fingers, twiddling his thumbs as he continued speaking, “I didn’t think you liked me that much when you were selected to train me.” 

“Well...if you must know,” Grell said shrugging her shoulders, “I haven’t gotten used to being with a junior who took my methods seriously. Maybe that’s why I’m fond of you.” 

“Nobody ever takes me seriously.” He chuckled, making Grell smirk for a moment. “If that makes you feel better.” 

“I guess that’s what makes a good reaper. Being completely serious all of the time, even ignoring their own faults. Nowadays, reapers aren’t meant to make one mistake or else it's an instant failure. Back when I was at your ranking, I never had a problem with scythe-wielding. But that’s just my experience.” She said. “It’s as if Reapers are meant to feel absolutely nothing at all. Yet you and I are more particular from the rest, and look at us now.” 

Nodding in agreement, and said, “It’s just, most of the others don’t seem to think much of me in my classes.” 

“Oh, really?” Grell persuaded, gently scooting closer to her apprentice. 

“Unfortunately.” The boy sighed. 

Grell crossed her legs and smiled in amusement. “I wouldn’t particularly say that. Though you are no professional, you do need to catch up, and you know by now I only push you for your own good.” 

“I understand.” Ronald contemplated to his senior Reaper. 

“Have some self-confidence for once,” Grell suggested, though it hardly sounded like it. 

Ronald made a small smirk on his lips and pulled out his pocket watch. Yet he grunted in frustration as he saw that it was stuck at the stroke of 7 am. He begrudgingly hated the little thing, and it was shown as he stuffed it back into his pocket. 

“Hey, Sutcliff?” 

“Hmm?” Grell responded. 

“Do you know the time? Is it almost lunch?” He said, crossing his legs casually. 

Grell froze. “Lunch?!” She ruffled through her suit pocket and clicked open her pocket watch. Her eyes widened in shock. 

“It’s almost 12:30! Augh!” Grell hit herself in the face with her palm, grumbling under her breath. 

“Is that bad?” Ronald asked.

“Yes, it’s bad!” Grell shouted. She groaned. “It’s because of that little fiasco I lost track of the time!” She scrambled to her feet and ran across the roof. 

“Hey, Sutcliff! Wait! What’s wrong?!” The smaller Reaper, jumping up from his perch, and following after Grell as she quickly floated down the side of the building. Ronald was quick to respond and jumped down immediately after his frustrated mentor. When he reached to running by her side, he asked, 

“Is this about your lunch with Pops?” 

“Yes, it is! What do you think?!” Grell shouted as she skidded to a halt and jumped to the top of another apartment building. Glancing at Ronald, she argued, “You couldn’t have told me the time earlier?!” 

Continuing to run, Ronald nearly slipped on a patch of ice, but still kept going as Grell kept running faster without showing a single sign of her slowing down. 

“Grell! Slow down! Wait!” He cried as the pair ran down the side of the road, and disappeared into the crowd of people who could never see them. 

 

 

 

Waiting at his desk, an old aged man with pristine glasses adorned on the bridge of his nose, looked at the clock above him. His hair was a dark shade of brown, yet it was clear that his age had seen better days, as a few white and gray streaks that rang along his combed back bangs. 

The door slowly opened to which the old man lifted his head towards. In the doorway, stood William T. Spears, as the older reaper smiled. Which, just like William’s demeanor, was a rare occurrence. 

“Ah! William! Such a pleasure to see you could make it.” The elder reaper exclaimed. 

“Yes, Mr. Anderson. I told you I would be attending this morning.” William responded, and closed the door to the office. 

The older man shrugged with a smug smirk on his lips and spoke, “Oh, no need to be formal, William. It’s not as if we’re attending business.” He waved his hand in amusement. “And besides, it’s just a lunch break. You can tell me anything.” 

William let out a small sigh, and sat down on the couch of his office. Mr. Anderson joined him moments later, and pulled out a sandwich from a paper bag he had packed earlier. 

“What did you mean by ‘you can tell me anything,’ exactly?” William asked his elder before biting into his sandwich. 

“Oh?” Anderson spoke. “You don’t know? I was only wondering if you have been dealing with your ‘emotions’ lately.” 

William let out a small chuckle to humor out his acquaintance, and said, “You know by now I don’t have any.” 

“You say that now,” Anderson started, “But if there’s anything we can agree on, is how you don’t look as angry as you typically do when you’re worried.” 

“Am I that see through to you?” William responded in a sarcastic manner. 

“No.” Anderson straightened up his glasses. That was a signal that he was serious for the moment. “We’ve known each other since the dawn of the nineteenth century. I think I can tell when you’re distressed or not, right? Are we not friends?” 

“I didn’t think you would consider me to be a friend, since it’s been three years since we’ve sat down and talked like this.” William said, rubbing his eye for a moment, then taking another bite of his sandwich. 

“You’d be surprised to know who I consider friends.” Anderson said, smiling. Almost. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Ah, speak of the devil.” Anderson quickly got up to answer the door until William said, 

“I didn’t know someone would be joining us.”

“Not just anyone. I invited him just to be sure of something between the both of you.” Anderson said, as William raised a brow. 

Anderson was quick to open the door. William couldn’t see who it was, but telling by the sound of the person’s voice, a small pang of worry hit him in the chest. 

“I’m sorry I’m so late, Pops.” Said Grell’s voice.” 

Anderson just chuckled and gave a waving signal for her to come in. “Not to worry at all, Grell. Come on in. Have a seat.” 

“Alright-!” Grell stuttered, surprised at who she saw before her.


	4. Desire of Will, Chapter Four

She could only stand in silent fear, and it showed, as Grell was looking at the man who she believed despised her. Yet with a touch of Pops’ confident smile, had led Grell to shyly smile, back, and walk into the office. With the click of her shoes, William snapped himself back into reality, and slowly averted his gaze from Grell. She only tried to avoid making eye contact. 

The elder reaper started to realize the awkwardness of the situation, and couldn’t help but notice to see Grell still struggling to get through the doorway. Much to her surprise, he gave her a comforting yet sudden pat on her shoulder, causing her to jump for a moment. 

“It’s so good to see you two again. I’m relieved you could both make it.” Pops said, giving Grell a smile, to which she nervously returned one back. 

“Thank you, Mr. Anderson,” Grell said, giving him a polite bow before entering the room completely. 

The atmosphere was increasing intenseness, as she sat down to the farthest corner she could go to avoid William. The seat was a decorated chair next to Pops’ desk, as she then set down her bag, and lunch to the side, then intertwining her fingers and twiddling her thumbs together. Pops knew this situation wouldn’t work at all.

“Why don’t you sit here, Grell?” Pops gestured for her to sit near him, which had happened to also just be across from where William was, much to Grell’s dread. Yet, not wishing to look bad in front of either of them, she nodded gently. 

“Sure.” She quickly, but surely said, sitting herself down by the elder reaper, as well as avoiding the cold aura around William. As much as she loved the Reaper just across from her, Grell couldn’t bring herself to be anywhere near him, because she also could feel this deep fear of being near his presence. Not as if she feared him as a person. She glanced up to see William’s face, which read nothing emotionally. Only, maybe an ounce angrier as it were. 

“Grell?” Pops started asking, “Do you have something to say?” 

It wasn’t until her senior Reaper acknowledged that Grell was indeed staring, almost, at William, who proceeded to eat his lunch. Her cheeks gently tinted the same shade of her hair for a moment, causing Pops to internally chuckle from, as she began to fiddle with her bangs for a second. 

“U-Uuhh…” Grell stuttered. “How... are you, Mr. Spears?” 

William glanced towards Grell, giving her his typical emotionless gaze, then turning his head the other way with a hint of his new found attitude. 

“I’m fine.” He said, then turning his attention back to his sandwich. The room became deathly silent between the three, making the office feel smaller and smaller by the moment. 

“That’s good.” Grell quickly exclaimed happily, with a twinge of worry in her voice, which both Pops and William could tell her. Pops then patted Grell’s shoulder again, much to her surprise, and said, 

“I believe we don’t need formalities in here, Grell. We can all talk to each other here in peace.” 

“Yes, of course. Thank you.” Grell spoke, as Pops sat down next to her, offering her a porcelain teacup. 

“I know you prefer coffee over tea, but I do have a blend of Earl Gray that should match your taste. If you’d like, that is.” Pops offered, as he walked over to his desk, and pulling out a tin box of tea. 

“Yes. Anything with caffeine will do. I’ve been having quite a day, actually.”

“Oh?” Pops said, spooning in some Earl Gray leaves into the pot of hot water. “Like what? Or more importantly,” He gently swirled the tea leaf-water in the pot with a spoon, “How’s the little tramp doing as your apprentice? Ronald, I mean.” He said, gently fixing up his glasses from the fog the hot tea water caused. 

William let out a small chuckle. Grell couldn’t help but glance with only her eyes towards him but saw nothing in his expression. Grell gently then beamed at the thought of telling William, and Pops, about how she bravely rescued her trainee flawlessly. 

“Well, yes...Ronald Knox. Lord, where do I even start with him? The child is such a troublemaker nowadays.” Grell began, with a prideful tone. 

“He actually thought that he could take on a soul all by himself without any instruction whatsoever. It wasn’t until I had used these,” 

She pulled out her shining, sharp scissors scythe, making William flinch a little as she displayed them.

“I saved his ass from the persistent man’s cinematic record. Apparently, he didn’t want to die because of some debt he couldn’t pay for. And Ronnie soon ran out of my sight, thinking he could do as he pleased, and wing it. He was practically cornered by the time I came to the rescue. It was almost comedic as he could have simply reaped the man with one swipe of his sickle, yet the poor child was dreck with fear.”

“Really?” Pops asked, smirking coyly while wiping his spectacle lenses. He brought them up to his eyes and asked, “Didn’t think the kid had any gull in him since he transferred to be your trainee.” 

“He doesn’t. At least not as much as one would hope for the little mouse of a man to have. You think by now he’d know better having a great mentor like me by his side.” Grell sarcastically stated, crossing her legs confidently. “Though, I can’t help but enjoy his company.” She sighed, holding her cheek in her hand with her arm promptly on her knee. 

“Why was he taking on a soul by himself?” William intervened, leaving a bitter taste in Grell’s mouth, other than the Earl Gray tea she politely accepted from Pops. 

“Were you watching him?” William said. 

William crossed his legs and relaxed a little as Grell placed her scissor scythe away to her side. The feminine, red reaper’s pride escaped her from that moment, and she twirled a red lock behind her ear. 

“Well...um...not entirely...I-I guess. He was right next to me...but.” She answered to William’s question, stuttering. “Everything he did happen so suddenly.”

“And yet you claim as if it was hardly worth the effort. Either way, you should know by now, Ronald Knox is your responsibility, and you must protect him at all costs.” William said, in a correcting type manner. 

Grell defensively put her hands on the coffee table and gave William an irritated glare. “Knox isn’t my problem if he gets himself into trouble. If he decides to take on a reluctant soul without my assistance, then it’s his situation to get through, and not mine. It’s not as if he would ever listen to me anyways.” 

William gave her another glare, making her feel small, yet she sat up straight as he did so. He soon cleared his throat.

“I had hoped that you would have known by now, but according to the rules you have learned from Ethics Class, if you can’t seem to take care of a simple reaper trainee like Knox, then your ego like suffer greatly.” William adjusted his glasses, taking a sip of tea. “And I rarely support that kind of behavior of a superior reaper, such as yourself.”

“It’s not as if I don’t care about the child!” Grell said, trying not to yell. “I wouldn’t go so low as to allow him to become possessed!” 

“Yet he almost did. If it weren’t for your carelessness-...” 

“You can’t say that! You weren’t even there!” Grell stood up and raised her tone defensively. 

Pops cleared his throat and raised his hand to Grell. “I think what Grell is trying to say is that when the soul wasn’t acting accordingly, Ronald, is a lively young reaper, wanted to try and collect it himself. Am I right?” 

Grell nodded and spoke defeated, “Yes, that sounds correct.”

 

William didn’t respond, much to Grell’s disdain, and she proceeded to burn the roof of her mouth with Pops’ tea. Waving the smoke which streamed from her lips, William couldn’t help but gently blush at her gesture to cool down her burnt tongue, but instantly looked away when Pops noticed as he soon poured the younger reaper a cup of tea at the coffee table. 

“Too hot, Grell?” Pops jokingly asked her. 

“What do you sink?!” Grell snapped through her lisp. 

William couldn’t help but let out a choked snort in the humor of Grell’s burnt tongue talk. 

“I heard sat!” She tried to sound intimidating, but it only made William snort again, along with Pops covering his mouth with a few chuckles. 

“Yeth, I thee. Hilariouth…” Grell folded her arms as the chuckles and snorts subsided, only to be regained as she scowled at them. “Ith tho funny to thee me in pain!” 

 

Pops couldn’t help but laugh a little harder as Grell’s lisp continued on about how it was “rude to mock a lady,” or “you shouldn’t make fun of my weakness.” Even William found some laughter in his stickler's throat and saw that Grell, for once could actually seem happy to be around him and Pops. 

“Well, I can certainly say that your attitude has definitely changed since I had last seen you two together. If anyone took a chance at glancing at you wrong, you would make sure they would pay dearly for their actions.” Pops said, folding his arms together, and giving William a bump of encouragement on his shoulder. “I admit, I didn’t think you two would be so participant of each other.” 

There was a silence as William saw Grell gently smile as her sharp teeth showed as the elder reaper’s chuckling subsided when Grell stuck her tongue out childishly, at Pops. The atmosphere started to change when his expression from his usual monotone face moved into a slightly angered one. He sat up and placed his tea and remains of his lunch to the side of the table. 

“Are you joking?” William asked, sternly to Pops. 

Pops turned his head questioning William’s sudden change. “What makes you say that?” 

“W-William?” Grell asked her demeanor now a little seemingly defensive. 

“It’s nothing. Its just...I’m rather surprised by how easily you said that. Considering one of us here isn’t to be associated with supervisors, or in your case, Spectacle Crafters, such as yourself.” William took a sip of his tea. “Did you forget about what had happened between us...years ago?” 

“William. Don’t start.” Pops warned. 

William settled himself back into his seat, but he was still internally riled up because of the fact that he was trapped in a personal bubble with the reaper who tried to take something very precious from him. Grell and Pops started to feel the intensity of William’s emotions in the room and glanced at each other to make the most of the moment. 

“W-William?” Grell asked him. “If this is still about Ronald, I promise you that I did my hardest to protect him, and I would rather lose a leg than knowing for another century I let him become a living vegetable...” 

“Funny you should mention that.” William interrupted. It was that moment Grell had realized what she had just said. His gloved hands clenched into fists, the thin fabric squeaking between his palms doing so. 

“If there’s anything I know about you is how your behavior is unpredictable and insane.” 

“Will, please,” Grell said, reaching out her hand to him, almost sounding innocent. 

 

“Mr. Anderson, I understand what you’re doing, and I can relate to your means to help, but I’m not going to participate,” William stated, putting his teacup down. 

“At least we’re finally starting to get along, again.” Grell crossed her arm in a childish manner. “Is it really so much as to wish for you to see me again?” Her voice grew soft. “William, if this is about what happened...before...then maybe…maybe…” 

“‘Then maybe’ what?” William demanded, calmly. 

“Maybe…” Grell began but was too afraid to finish her sentence. She knew she would probably get his disapproval. 

“It's alright, Grell. Just tell him what you need to say.” Pops encouraged, but William only blinked and looked in the opposite direction of Grell, whose glance was directed at the floor, mostly for not wishing to look William straight in the eyes. 

Grell couldn’t utter a word for a moment which felt like hours and hours of nervously trying to talk to an audience of people at a ceremony. She felt as if her voice had completely escaped her, yet it found itself in her throat. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like I did. I never wished for any of this to happen to us, or at least, what we used to be.” She uttered, her fingers entwining into the tight fabric of her suit-pants. 

“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to...to her. To a woman that I know you probably deserve by now. Yet…” 

Grell couldn’t help but feel small with William’s angry eyes on her. The few times he ever did so these days were when he would scowl, especially if she was around. Lucky for her though, no tears showed, yet. 

“And…”

William’s eyes widen in confusion. “And what?” 

“I just want to know...I still love you.” Grell said in a voice so low, yet both of them could hear it. 

William slammed his fist onto the coffee table, causing the teacup he was given to fall over and made Grell jump in surprise.

“Bullshit!” 

Pops only shook his head slowly in response to his gesture. 

“Don’t think for a second Grell is the victim here, Pops!” 

William shouted. He soon turned his head back to Grell. 

“Do you know how horrible It felt to nearly be killed just because you threw a tantrum over a heartbreak?! You didn’t even talk to me when I came back two years ago.” He yelled at Grell. 

A tear escaped Grell’s left eye, “It was more than a heartbreak!” 

Another tear came out of her other eye. “I only wish to have you in my life as someone I belong to.” 

Pops only closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. 

“Yet if I knew you were going to toy with my emotions the way you have been as of now, I would have spared myself the heartbreak of knowing you prefer women! Did I do something wrong to convince you to sleep with her? I know that you changed your mind as you left Paris, but I also know you loved me before all of this happened, and you know by now that all I had ever wanted, is to be yours.” Grell covered her mouth with her hand as she started to cry. 

“Why do you keep rejecting me after all of this time I have been trying to make up for what I did?” 

“I’m not an idiot, Grell.” William stood up and glared down at her without an ounce of sympathy from his expression. “Had I known how insane you could act around others, Heaven forbid if you don’t get your way, I wouldn’t have put myself into this mess, let alone see the warnings from the first time we had met. Hell! I would have never left Paris!” 

 

And at the moment, Grell’s chest felt a stabbing motion within it. She brought her hands to cover her eyes and sat back down. Pops put his hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing one in comfort. William’s angered eyes remained the way they were for a moment, but soon softened when Grell uttered quietly, 

“I knew you hated me.” and got up from her seat. 

“Grell…” Pops tried to keep her in the chair to try and calm her infuriated yet weakened state, but she had one last thing to say. 

“I would rather have my soul destroyed than know the truth. But you just confirmed that!”

She wiped her tears away with her sleeve, and soon got up, slowly taking Pops’ hands off her shoulders. She glanced up at William and left the room walking stiffly, slamming the door shut behind her. William sat back down in a slump and put his hands in his lap. Yet his eyes seemed as though they were about to cry tears, he refused to. He couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

Why did I say that? He whispered to himself.

A long moment of silence came between the time the action had happened, and the bell began to toll the twelfth hour, signaling that it was halfway through the lunch hour. Pops picked up the fallen teacup from the table and used the hanky in his breast pocket to wipe up the now bitter, cold tea. 

“Why did you say that?” Pops asked the younger reaper. Nothing came from William’s lips. Pops sighed. 

“I don’t know.” 

With that, Pops left the room too, William wanting to follow after him, until Pops said, “It’s for the best that I go alone. But stay here, please. I need to speak with you later.” 

Like an obedient child, William sat back down, and Pops slowly closed the door to his office, leaving the reaper by himself. 

 

Making her way down the hallways of which would have been filled to the brim with other reaper workers, if not for the break hour of the day, Grell walked as quickly as she could to her office, praying to the God she hardly knew that no one else would be there to hear her crying. Just then, however, Grell found herself wiping her nose and eyes, almost hysterically. She couldn’t believe it. She would deny it, if it wasn’t confessed to her at that moment William had told her.

As she neared her office, Grell found herself at the door for the section of her office. She the desk of her office, as well as falling down into the chair. Yet, despite all that had happened within the last few moments, and no matter how hard the truth William had just told her, Grell couldn’t bring herself to cry like she had planned. She could only feel the heavy lump in her torso pressing hard against her chest and held her head down. That is until she heard the door click open to the office section she was hiding in. 

“Grell?” It was a voice she knew all too well, and she really didn’t need to hear him, let alone see his face right now. 

“Grell? Sweetheart? Are you alright? I heard crying and…” 

“Not now, John…” Grell tried to mask her voice to make it seem as if she was just taking a nap in her dimly lit office, but she was so worked up by William’s words, that she sounded groggy and choked, and helpless. The sound alone of her voice was enough to make her cry out of humiliation. She did just that. 

“Grell? Is everything alright? I’m coming in-!” The man Grell called John said, slowly opening the door, but was interrupted when another all too familiar voice intervened. 

“I think I should handle this Cromwell.” It was Pops, much to Grell grieving relief. 

“Pops, please...I just think…” John tried to excuse himself.

“No. He needs me at the moment. Why don’t you talk to him later?” Pop also excused, though he had more reasoning. 

John knew he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere with the stubborn old goat. So without a word, the other man walked away, and Pops saw him off before gently pushing on the door. 

“Grell, I know you’re in there. Can you come over here?” Pops asked her. 

Not wanting to seem disrespectful to her elder, considering he just saved her from a massive headache, she slumped herself up and walked over to him. Grell, in a neutral fashion, hid her puffy, red eyes, and walked up to Pops standing in the doorway. She raised her head up and swallowed as embarrassment folded her head with its heaviness. 

“May I come in?” Pops asked her, to which he was replied with a nod from Grell. “I’m sorry that William told you those things. But I can assure you, he never meant to utter it at all.”

“How do you know?” Grell pouted, her voice still groggy and cracking. 

“I’ve known William for as long as you have, and also knowing him, he would never try to hurt you.” Pops stepped closer to Grell’s weakened frame. “...even if he wished he could.”

“You don’t know that.” A few tears began to dribble down her cheeks. She was so tired of crying, yet no matter how hard she tried, it couldn’t stop. She touched her wet, left cheek and could see the shininess of her tear on her fingertips. 

“You’re right about that,” Pops said, giving Grell a clean handkerchief. 

“I don’t know everything about William, and I can’t always quite calculate his actions. Yet what I do know is what William said, wasn’t true.” 

“Really?” Grell asked in a sardonic manner. 

Pops didn’t answer her entirely. Instead, the old reaper held his arms out to her, and asked her, “Can I hug you?” 

Grell didn’t want any physical contact, as it would signal weakness in many reapers eyes. Yet she was broken, needing to be put back together as if she were a vase. She wished deep inside of her mind that she could simply throw herself away like the shattered pieces of her heart, but it would not fix a thing. Grell sighed, her tears finally starting to halt, and leaned herself into Pops’ embrace. 

Pops held her tight in his arms, like holding a crying child. He wanted so badly to just helping his good friend, but he knew that this “situation”, wasn’t his battle. The only thing he could do now was to find the pieces, and put them back together, slowly but surely. 

 

“Things are going to get better, Grell.” He said, loosening up his grip on the red reaper. 

When she was out of his arms, the elder one held his hand close to her face, attempting to wipe a tear streak away. Grell surprised him though by leaning the side of her head into his palm and breathed into it. Pops smirked in a sorrowful manner.

“You know, I couldn’t help but notice that you cut your hair to be so short.” 

Grell closed her eyes but smiled slightly as she pulled herself away from his hand. 

“Don’t tell anyone else, but I think it looks adorable on you.”

“Thank you.” She said, closing her eyes, feeling slightly, less defeated.


	5. Desire of Will, Chapter Five

As the minutes ticked by in Pops’ office, William shuffled his gloved fingers together into one fist, entwining them. Yet, the tension wouldn’t ease, as what he had just said sounded atrocious, even to someone like Grell. William was known for spatting, or in a monotone way say things that would offend a normal reaper. Grell was no regular reaper. But this…I would have never left Paris! William rethought about the sentence he hissed at her within the past half-hour. 

Pops wasn’t back yet after the small clock above the office chair clicked to twelve O clock. Meaning that whatever Grell most likely threw at Pops, emotionally that is, wasn’t going to recover her emotions any time soon. William could only shuffle his hands more, as the seconds passed by, what almost felt as if they were minutes, which could be mistaken for hours. His heart gently beating in the ringing of his ears due to the numbing silence in the office. 

Just then, however, the door which was ajar already was slowly being pushed open. William thanked the heavens, if there truly were any, that it was Pops, telling the Italian style shoes he always wore. Yet there wasn’t any sign of Grell, which honestly made his expectations dulled down a little. He wanted to see Grell, mostly because of wishing to redeem his actions before.

Taking a few steps in, Pops closed the door behind him, and as it clicked shut, he walked up to William and took a seat next to him. The two looked down for a moment, again, feeling like a long time had passed. Pops sighed and intertwined his gloved fingers together, and rocked a little within his chair, taking a look at William whose eyes were glued to the floor. 

“William…” Pops began, making Mr. Spears’ head twitch in surprise, even though he expected it. 

Another moment of silence that Pops had to end, 

“I can’t tell if you care or not, but, Grell is, a little shaken, but should be able to make it through the day-” 

“Why do you care, Pops?” William spoke, his left hand over his face. It was clear he was uncomfortable with the situation, but it also pained him even more, now fully knowing what his elder, Pops, was truly up to. 

“Why do you care at all?” William couldn’t help but whimper. He clenched his eyes shut, and held his spectacles in his other hand while one wiped his left eye. William could feel his emotions bubble up in his throat, but he refused to let it out. Keeping it in was exhausting, but William only let the smallest hint out of his eyes to regain his composure. 

Pops glanced at the floor and balled his fingers into a joined fist. He brought it to his chest, and then let his hands unfold in his lap. He loosened his shoulders a little, and turned his gaze to William, still hanging his head in what seemed like the shame. It seemed to Pops that the stoic reaper he had seen grow up mentally, was starting to break down, slowly but surely, from all of the stress with Grell and he had been pushing through. 

“William, I care because it pains me to see two fellow reapers go through so much stress. And considering what had happened, I’d say your anger has been pent up for quite some time now.” 

“It’s...it’s not about anger…” William whispered out, though Pops could hear evidently. William started to pick himself back up as the moments passed by. 

“It’s...it’s what...it’s what happened between us that really gets to me.” William brought his gaze back up to Pops’ eye level. “I still have a hard time believing Grell could do something like that to me. Of all reapers.” 

“Oh. Is that what that outburst was about?” Pops questioned William. 

“It’s not just that. More as if I was trying to win, and succeeded.” Within saying that sentence, William pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation of himself. “But I...I guess it was a wrong decision to make on my part.” 

“It doesn’t entirely matter as to why you did it or not,” Pops said. “What matters is…” Pops shuffled his hands a little, wondering how William would take in what he was going to say next. “...How you’re going to fix it.” 

William brought his hands up to his head, and laid his elbows on his knees, “I know.” 

“If you know, then do you know how you can bring yourself to do it?” 

“That I don’t know anything about,” William said, his hands still holding up and hiding his head. He then covered his face with his fingers and brushed them through his brown locks, then the clock tolled twelve-fifteen. Only five minutes away from when their lunch break would be over. Panic gently swirled and tightened in William’s chest. He knew that he would have to face Grell again, but how would he? How could he? After all, he just spat at the reaper. The male reaper who he was sure loved him. Worshiped the very ground he treads on and wanted to believe he could save from madness. 

“Pops…?” William asked his elder, who fiddled his glasses when the younger reaper asked him a question. “Am I the villain in this ordeal?”

 

“No, William...You are anything but. However,” Pops stood up, slightly struggling due to his age, even as a reaper, catching up with his knees. He patted William’s shoulder, encouraging him gently to look up. 

“You must learn when to give mercy to those who have wronged you. Grell is willing to accept his mistakes, I’m hoping, at this point in time. And...what worries me, is that you’ll wait too long, and Grell will decide his fate for you.” 

“What does that mean?” William almost bickered, glancing up now, his brows furrowed. 

“I was hoping you would know by now.” Pops said, “But let me put it in simpler terms. If you keep this game of ‘who's the quietest,’ Grell might go as far as winning the game.” 

“Hmph. You think he's going to put me through all of that physical, again?” William almost pouted. 

“No, I mean...never mind…” Pops sighed. “Yet, nevertheless, I mean, knowing Grell, he might make choices he, as well as you, might regret.” 

William sighed, looked back up to Pops, and placed his glasses back along the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is you want to tell me through riddles, I still need to get back to work.” 

He got up, straighten his tie, and pulled out a comb to neatened his hair after messing his hair. After sighing again, William stood up and bowed his head to Pops. 

“Thank you for inviting me to lunch. I appreciate the gesture.” 

Without turning back, he walked up to the door, yet turned back, “And thank you for the attempt to get us to…”

“It’s not about getting you two back together.” Pops interrupted. “It’s about saving you both, William. Have a good day.” 

“Good day, Pops,” William spoke and left the office without another word. 

As he walked down the hallways of the Reaper Dispatch A building, William couldn’t help but realize that as the hall was starting to flood with other reapers, a red tuft of hair was showing around the top of the crowd at the end. William quickened his pace a little, practically speed walking towards the bright red tuft, but soon after spotting it, he realized he was barely looking where he was going. Nearly bumping into a fellow reaper, William backed away, regaining his composure, and looking back to where he imagined he saw Grell. As the tuft soon floated out of sight, William soon knew that his chance to make up for what he said was gone. His hope had faded too. For the moment, at the least.


	6. Desire of Will, Chapter Six

Upon the night, tired out of his mind, William walked away from the office, after a very busy evening. Not as if that was any different from the norm. It didn’t matter how much the job of a grim reaper made him work his way further into the ground. The only thing that could ever distract him was the thought of what had happened earlier in the day. Why did it happen? And why was it getting to him? How could he ever let it happen? Why did he allow himself to become so enraged over something so childish? 

He needed a drink, and rather quickly too. It wasn’t however, until the first stroke of the day he had realized just how far it would be to walk back to his home. He was not in the mood to do so, and knowing how he only had a few hours dedicated to sleep before the next day, William couldn’t help but imagine himself going to the nearest bar. He shrugged off the idea of getting sleep and thought to himself that if he needed a drink, it might as well be in the living realm considering that he was not in the mood to run into anyone he knew at the closest pub. Especially not in the state, he was in. 

As he trudged his way through the portal towards the human world with his scythe, slowly rising up the brilliant light of the entryway. Stepping through the gateway as if he was walking downstairs, William landed onto the nearest rooftop, scouring the area to find a bar. Lucky for him, it wasn’t too far, let alone too shabby. Yet, looking through the window of the nearby pub, he couldn’t help but internally groan. 

A familiar face was turned the other way, but his black, tightly braided hair along the left side of his head, along with his dirty blonde mane was evident who it was. It seemed as though luck was never going to be on his side, especially tonight. Not wishing to be seen by anyone that knew him, William decided to be well on his way. However, it wasn’t until in a flash, like a sizzling spark of fire burning in the darkness, passed the corner of his eye. 

Turning his head to see who that could be, he almost uncharacteristically widened his eyes and saw that tuft of red disappear once again in the streets from his view from above. As he leaped down from the top of the building, William went down onto the streets and scanned as best he could with his limited eyesight. Yet within an instant, he noticed that it was only but a lady, and a rather old one at that, with a large red hat on. Not being able to avoid his disappointment, William shook his head to get the dawning thought out of his mind. Wanting an easy way to get out of his situation, the reaper only waltzed down the street towards the nearest shop that had alcohol. 

Yet the idea of being spotted at such a place as a professional reaper, he hurriedly adjusted his glasses and scanned the streets of any possibly faces from the dispatch that could recognize him. Even glancing up onto the roofs of the area, making sure no one would be able to jump down and notice him in such a filthy spot in London. 

….

Thankfully, no one he would recognize was anywhere in his sight. William gave a sigh of relief before the bell of a door to the pub behind him rung. 

“Spears?”

All William could do was pray it wasn’t who he imagined him to be. Yet, it seemed that God hated him as of now. Without turning around, William waved his hand to him, hoping that it would be enough for his acquaintance to leave him be. 

“Hello, Eric.” 

“What’re ya doin’ ere?” His fellow Reaper asked him. “Aren't Cha off work by now? Why are ya in this part of town?” 

“My business has nothing to do with you in particular, as you shouldn’t be questioning someone of my rank.” William spat, adjusting his specks. 

“Yeesh. Did the stick up yer arse go in further?” Eric showed no ounce of respect, most likely due to his bearded cheeks growing red, clearly showing off his tolerance to alcohol. 

“No, it did not,” William said, though his ability to hide things internally was starting to ebb away as he stomped his foot forward, while his eyes widened as he spoke. 

“I-I mean…It’s not...what is a Reaper like yourself, doing here?!” Within a moment he realized his voice was getting louder the more he could come up with excuses. “I would expect you to be taking care of yourself for your trainee! But it seems to me you can’t even take care of yourself to be sober for one day!” 

Eric just shook his head and started to walk in the other direction. Yet, before he could almost blend into the pitch blackness of the streets of the city, William couldn’t help but inhale a deep breath, deeper than it needed to be, and put his dignity aside. 

“Wait. Slingby…” William couldn’t help but cover his eyes with his palm, holding his glasses in the other hand. “I’m sorry.” 

Eric stopped in his tracks but refused to turn around to face him. He combed the blonde side of his hair, and though his head moved to his right, he hides his eyes. 

“Spears…” He growled. “If you ask me, neither of us are in the office. Ranks don’t matter at all here, but standards do. We are the same species, and if you even think for a second that I am going to put up wi-!” 

“Slingby.” William interrupted. “Please.” 

Eric was almost intoxicated enough to practically pick William up by the collar, and throw him right into the nearest brick building. His head swiftly twitched as he tried to eye Spears down as if a cat looking down on prey. Yet William was done being everyone’s prey. The fluorescent glow along the iris of his eyes practically brightened in the darkness, a signal that his patience was being tried. Eric’s glowed back, but due to his weakened state of alcohol-induced body, the only way he was going to win this, was physical. Slingby’s beefy hands cracked his fingers as his balled the one on his right into a tight fist. William only tightened his grip on his scythe handle. The scene was just becoming even tenser as William knew that even with his wielding with his pruners could indeed do damage to Eric, and perhaps even leave permanent marks.

However, just as Eric was about to take his first step towards Spears, the smaller reaper put and hand up, and spoke in both monotone, yet saddened voice, “Wait, Eric...Hold on.” 

Slingby continued to walk towards him, yet softened his infuriated gaze. 

Sighing, and placing his hand on his side again, lowering his now dimmed irises. “I...I am sorry.” 

Folding his arms, and stopping his pace as he was only a foot away from his fellow reaper, Eric scoffed, and spoke, “Spears, I’m not up for your false modesty, especially not tonight.” 

“This isn’t about modesty, Eric,” William argued. “This isn’t even about you, or really even me.” 

“Then why would you even-” Slingby tried to finish his sentence, but Spear knew he had to get to the point. 

“I didn’t come here to start a fight. I didn’t even come to do any work.” He sighed deeply. 

Eric’s eyes started to make a fluorescent glow, as he said ‘I find that hard to believe’ with only an expression. Once again, William was being looked down on as prey, and he didn’t like it. “Then why would you be in a place like this?” Eric asked him.

Shoving his pride away, not that there was any left, William closed his eyes. Yet because of that, he could hardly find any words to express his emotions or find his voice to tell him the truth. What did come out through his lips, however, he truly hoped would at least get this reaper off of his back. 

“I...didn’t...I just really needed a drink.” William managed to say surprisingly calm, causing the blonde reaper to look utterly confused. 

“Well, didn’t expect ya to say that. But why? Why are you here, when you could just go to a bar back home?” Eric asked. 

“Honestly…” William fiddled with his glasses in nervousness. “...I didn’t wish for anyone I knew to see me at such a place.” 

“Why not?” Eric questioned.

It took a minute, but once a moment passed by William finally made eye contact with his senior reaper. “As a supervisor, you’re meant to be someone of high standards. It’s a role I need to take very seriously.” 

“Is that really the meaning?” 

“No. Not really…” William shrugged. He was never good at stretching the truth. 

Eric could practically see right through him. He shrugged and asked, “Shitty day?” 

William nervously spoke, “Unfortunately, yes.”

Eric’s often rough, rugged expression softened as William’s own mug seemed to be depressed, which was a sight to see for anyone who knew him personally. Or in Eric’s case, a semi-rivalry on who’s more in charge of the dispatch. Yet Eric knew that wasn’t the case at the moment. 

Eric gently shook his head and removed the spectacles from the bridge of his nose, and rubbed his eye. “Listen, Spears, I’m really not in the mood to create a bigger situation than this probably already is.” 

Eric didn’t wait for William to respond. “I’ll just...leave ya be.” 

Walking away from William’s presence, Eric ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, tempted to waltz back into the pub he was acquainted with. Yet, he glanced back, noticing how William stood silently in the middle of the street. The taller reaper only shrugged it off at first, rubbing the dark rings around his eyes under his glasses with his forefinger and thumb, but he slightly hung his head, realizing the core of the problem they both were going through. 

William turned around, clicked open his pocket watch, and sighed as he made his way down the dark street, but not just before he heard an all too familiar voice call out for him. 

“Oi! Spears!” William knew who it was, but was curious enough to turn his head around behind him to see Eric walking in his direction. As he quickly made his way up to William, he then patted the younger reaper’s shoulder with his beefy hand a few times, then gently but surely turned him around to meet his gaze. 

“Listen…” He breathed in deeply. “...I don’t usually ask supervisors to do this, but...what I’m trying to ask ya is...do ya want to talk?” 

William’s eyes suddenly widened. Since when did someone as rough as Slingby ever wanted to talk about anything other than how to gut a demon? 

“What?” Was all William could ask him. 

“I’m sorry. I meant to say ‘do you need to talk?’ Why don’tcha come into the pub with me? Have a drink...or three?” 

Looking up and down at the experienced war horse, and tired of all this drama being caused by his being, William only nodded and followed Eric into the bar. He thanked his peer as he opened the door for him, and made his way to the table in the far corner. It was a little obvious, yet being the prestigious worker he was, William and Eric found their way over to a small table in the far corner to not get noticed by any humans whatsoever. 

“Wait here,” Eric asked of William, and got up to get them each a pint. 

Folding his gloved hands together, Mr. Spears’ knee couldn’t help but shake a little in nervousness. Was he really going to do something like this? ‘It wouldn’t matter,’ William immediately shook off that thought. He was with Eric. They weren’t the closest of friends, not like he had any outside of Anderson, and...a certain woman. Who was miles and miles away in another country, but William then told himself that it didn’t matter tonight. Drinking wasn’t a wise method of calming one’s self down, yet it was a method, and that alone was enough for him to end the day on a good note.

By the time Eric walked back up to their table, William’s face was hidden in his entwined fingers. Taking in a deep breath, the taller reaper set down the bottle next to William’s elbow, and a tall glass next to him, waiting for him to take the first drink of his poison for the night. 

“Spears? You in there?” Eric said, giving him a small nudge on his shoulder. William rose up his head and rubbed his eyes. 

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” He responded. 

“Really? Did you just forget what had happened moments ago?” Eric asked him, and soon after took the bottle to pour himself a tall glass of liquor. 

William gave him a slight glance towards him, saying, “And did you forget how terrible I am at lying?” 

Slingby took a long sip of his drink, as William expected, and soon proceed to take a small amount of the liquid in the bottle, pouring it into the glass. 

“Point taken, but you seem to have plenty of thoughts you’re trying to keep to yourself,” Eric said, starting to pour another glass. “Ya want to talk about it?” 

William didn’t want to think he could bring himself to say it. He rested his knuckles against his cheek, feeling the warmth leave his chest. “I doubt anyone I would know might be able to help me with my ‘situation,’ though...if anything, I honestly can’t understand why I would even have enough pride to hide what’s going on. With me, I mean.”

“Y’er speaking in riddles, Spears.” Said Eric, right after he gulped down the first half of his tall glass. 

God above. William thought to himself. 

“I need answers.” Eric finished. 

William rubbed his temples, and said, “Well. I understand you probably would imagine this thought...or idea, to be hard to comprehend...but-“

“What?” Eric said, raising his brow in confusion. “I-I’m sorry, you lost me.” 

William fiddled with his glasses to distract himself but to no avail. It wasn’t a question he would like to discuss, and of all Reapers, he only had Eric to talk to at the moment. Yet the pressure of the gravity on what had been plaguing his mind was beginning to emotional drain him, internally, and if he were to allow it to pull him under, William knew he would break down outwardly, leaving a scar on his record as a supervisor.

“I’ll just get straight to the point then. Earlier today, I had disappointed...an acquaintance of mine, and for the entirety of the day, I can’t help but feel troubled about it. He then accused me of despising him, and stormed off before I could say anything.” William looked at Eric the entire time and felt shame for the first time in a long time. Not because of pouring out some of his life which he took seriousness in keeping private, but the fact he was never used to being able to tell anyone about how he felt. It was rather comforting. 

As William took a long sip of his drink, whatever it was, Eric couldn’t help but be surprised he was admitting he was at fault, and even felt sorry for doing it. “Would you mind me asking why?” 

William finished his first glass, and spoke, “Just drama, really. Drama about work earlier in the day.” 

“Hmm, what were they disappointed about? Again, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

William started to pour himself another glass. “I triggered him, a bit too far.” William groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking his glasses off and putting them aside. 

“I hate being the Devil’s Advocate…” Eric sighed rolling his eyes, “ But you trigger everyone. Though, I have to give to you, whoever you ticked off today, you must have really hit him hard enough to shatter his skull.” 

In an instant after him saying so, Eric heard a small thud onto the table. William had his forehead on the wooden surface much to Eric’s surprise. “You...seem awfully torn up about it.” Why was he acting up about a subordinate being mad at him? Slingby gently reached out his hand to tap his shoulder. Yet as he did so, William lifted his head up momentarily and took a deep breath before gulping down a heavy sip of alcohol. 

“As a matter of fact, I am. Is there more of…What-what is this exactly?” He pointed at the bottle in Eric’s hand. 

“Brandy. I figured you would need something strong.” Eric replied, gently pushing the bottle closer to him. William clenched his eyes and accepted the keeper of liquor. “I can get you something else if you prefer.”

“No. I’ll be fine.” Was what William wanted to say. But instead could only spit out, “I don’t know.” As he couldn’t get the thought of him realizing the true weight of his problem. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.” Eric glanced at the bottle. “But I think it’s fair to say you shouldn’t have much more.” 

“Funny…” William groaned. “I was about to tell you that…” 

“And…?” The other sarcastically questioned, slipping the bottle out of William’s reach. 

“...But...I guess I’m in no position to judge you...or anyone for that matter.” The shorter Reaper could only say so little as he rubbed his temples in frustration. 

“I guess that works.” Eric shrugged and handed William the bottle. “You have anything else to say?” 

William took a small swig, and said bluntly, “No. Nothing.” 

“Fair enough.” Eric shrugged. 

As their time together in the bar passed by, Eric told Spears how much he wished his current trainee wasn’t “such a wuss.” And also how he hoped that he would gather up the courage to come to terms in his classes. William didn’t say much, but despite his fellow Reapers slurs in his speech, he wasn’t a half-bad listener. Considering all he had to do was nod his head. 

 

It was hard to tell how many hours went by, but considering how easy it was for both Eric Slingby and William Spears to empty the entire bottle, the brunette male reaper could see that his friend wasn’t going to be able to walk home without any help. Even with his spectacles, his sight was still terrible and foggy. It was barely half past two in the morning, but William decided to be reasonable and though his head was ringing like crazy, he got Eric up, and the two decided to head back to their flats. William lead them both back to the Reapers Realm, as Eric was half-limping, half-walking as Spears held him up by the shoulder. William was able to hold down his alcohol for a good amount of hours, but then again, it was really just a matter of time before he regretted every sip of brandy he drank. 

One last hallway and William was able to get the brute back into his home. Yet just before he could walk to a chair to sit down on for a moment, Eric mumbled, 

“You know, it’s funny. I thought the whole time you were telling me how upset you were, I could have sworn you were going to say Grell was the one who got you so worked up.” He said, in an uncharacteristic-like, giddy tone. He fell onto his couch and laid down on his side facing the other way. 

“What?” William asked him. How could he have known that? Yet when he lifted his head, the other reaper was already out cold.

Guess I’ll be on my way then. Mr. Spears thought to himself as he shakily got up, and headed for the door. The light of the hallway burned into his eyes, but lucky for him, he knew his way around the apartment. Holding his hand out to feel the hallway wall next to him, he slowly made his way to his own home within less than an hour. 

 

It was the stroke of three in the morning as the, somewhat drunk reaper, was fast asleep in his bed. Though a moment later, he opened his eyes and heard a tearful voice call out for him.


	7. Desire of Will Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...let me know about how you feel about this chapter. I might consider rewriting it later due to the...Anyways enjoy!

Desire of Will Chapter Seven 

 

Slowly awakened by the murmuring of another’s crying, Spears begrudgingly pushed himself up from the bed, and searched curiously for who it might be. 

 

“I’m not in the mood to be woken up so early by your tomfoolery.” He scoffed. He couldn’t care less who it was, as he was exhausted by everything. Everything, and everyone. 

 

He began to realize how the scene around him was changing. He still remained in his bedroom, yet he cocked his head to the side, as he saw through the door was an ominous, gloomy, aura. William rested his forehead in his palm, and rubbed his temples. At first glance, he could only imagine the Brandy was beginning to fully set into his mind. Not wanting to go further into the rabbit hole, William lowered his body into the bed again. Yet as he placed himself onto the surface, there wasn’t one. He lie his cheek against a cold, smooth, solid surface. 

The porcelain feel had confused him. What was going on? It made him confuse his touch with reality as he didn’t question the changing of his own bedroom. Yet, as he sat up, he pushed up his nonexistent glasses as he just then felt concern as his glasses weren’t on the bridge of his nose. Though looking around in the pitch darkness of the area he was lying in, he noticed that his sight seemed to be working regularly. That, or he was blind, and he could only see pitch blackness due to that. Yet then, a beam of light came into his line of vision, knowing now that he could see clearly. He only assumed it was his bedroom door cracked open. William pulled himself up, thanking above he saw he was still wearing his pajamas and that he wasn’t plagued with another one of those, “wearing no clothes” nightmares. 

Taking his first steps forward, the reaper couldn’t help but hear a noise coming from the other side of the cracked door. An ominous giggle came from it, though William was sure that it was someone he knew. It didn’t even occur to him who it could be, or if he could comprehend the way how someone would have been able to get into his house. William couldn’t bring himself to think at all as he approached the crack, and leaned in forwards to the slit of light. He couldn’t see through it for an unknown reason. Pinching his fingers along the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyelids, William placed his hand along the crook of the door, and pushed it open, only to see inch by inch that it was….His bathroom? 

He sighed, imagining that he has been worn out to think properly. Without questioning the reaper took his first few steps on the smooth, small green tiled floor of his washroom. Running the warm water out of the sink’s faucet, William cupped his hands underneath it’s nozzle and splashed the liquid onto his face. Rubbing it gently against his skin, blubbering as he wiped it up and down his cheeks and temples, that peculiar giggle from earlier echo along the walls. His hands paused a moment after he heard it. It echoed again. William moved his body upwards in the direction of the creepy laughter, and stood frozen in place as he saw behind a shower curtain, was the shape outline of a human-like figure. 

“Who, are you?” William spat, his brows furrowed. He walked right up to the tub, and moved the curtain to the side the second he grabbed it. “How did you get in here?!” He scowled just before he could take in the sight of seeing who was in front of him. 

His fiery red hair remained dry as the rest of his body up to his collar was submerged in the soapy, semi-murky bath water. He had his eyes closed, and seemed so calm to William. His pale cheeks were dotted lightly with freckles, as were his strong shoulders and even the sides of his neck. William knew he was dazed at the sight of Sutcliff sleeping so peacefully, but snapped out of it as the other groaned quietly, and moved his head softly to his right. Away from William’s gaze. 

The brunette reaper shook his head to clear it, and spoke none to calmly, “Sutcliff, why are you here?!” 

The red headed male lay still, and seemed as though he didn’t flinch at the loud voice. William tried again, “How did you even get in? I took your key away-!” 

William was struck when Grell opened his eyes, and groaned softly. William wanted to back away from him. Though he was still, Sutcliff turned his head to Spears. He lifted his lips to a small smile, and blinked in a calm manner. William backed away from him just as the slim figure slowly started to lift himself out of the bath water, sitting up first, head hanging as his lower body remained submerged. The brunette male found the motion to look almost as if he were rising himself from the grave. Yet when the red hair from Grell’s face moved as he turned his unnaturally subdued gaze to William, those fierce eyes soft with a hint of sorrow, his heart started to beat inside his chest gently. 

“Sutcliff…?” He shivered. 

William took a few steps forward when he saw Grell rise from the tub, his pectorals seemed softer as he continued to stare at them. His freckled hips, his soft yet firm tummy, framing the lighter brown-Red patch of coarse hair around his genitals. Finally, Grell’s full form was completely exposed to Spears, who wasn’t able to take his working eyes off of him. All of his features were so lovely to see, not knowing what they truly looked like beforehand. The redhead moved himself forward, taking his foot out of the murky water, surprising to William as he saw it wasn’t pruned. Yet he ignored it within less than a second when he saw the porcelain skin inching closer and closer. He glanced upwards to Grell’s soft eyes, and began to step up to place his hands on the freckled shoulders. 

Grell moaned a little, and wrapped his fingers along William’s wrist. Not wanting to be rude, though he probably wouldn’t be if he pulled back, he allowed the redhead to try to tell him something. His smooth and soft to the touch hands placed Will’s palm against his chest, and pushing it gently onto his soft pectoral. 

William shakily asked, “What?” Not knowing how else to understand the movement of Grell’s actions. Yet the silent reaper slipped his arms and hands around the back of his head. 

“Sutcliff…?” A part of William was wondering if he should pull his hands away from the red reaper. Throw him back into the tub water and yell at him for such things to touch such a high ranking grim reaper like himself, and storm out of the room. Yet, he didn’t wish to, and he knew he didn’t have the balls to do so, even if he wanted to. He closed his eyes as Grell lifted his feet to stand on his toes to kiss him. 

William pushed his head forward to give Grell what he wanted, and also what he missed for such a long time. His brows softened when Grell wrapped his arms around his back, and he leaned back onto the red reaper’s lips, reaching up to cup the back of his head. He missed this greatly, and in cocking his head to the side, slipping his tongue into his sharp toothed mouth. 

Turning their bodies pressed together for William to hold Grell’s form tighter, he leaned his nose into the soft hair, gently taking in the scent. Yet, while he loved the smell of Grell’s locks, tickling his nose and stroking it, he slowly opened his eyes to catch something, very unfamiliar in his nostrils. 

 

“Grell?” William asked him, though the feel of his soft chest soon became softer, and he saw that the naked male’s hair in the bathroom mirror seemed to be long. Yet Grell didn’t have long hair…

William’s eyes widened when he then felt the with his leg the flatness of the one in his arms’ between his legs. Fully looking forward into the mirror, his mind started to whirl in realization. 

The person he was holding wasn’t even male anymore. Pulling back an arm length away from the one he held, he saw her unmistakable features. Her wavy ash brown hair, her hips slim, and light skin, gentle curves, with round, supple breasts held up by her chest. William backed away from her, but slipped down to the ground when a crazed laughter shook him. 

“D-Desiree!” 

She blankly glared at him, as he panicked and saw Grell remaining in the tub, laughing in a maniacal sense. His pale, freckled skin was submerged in the water, which William prayed was only reflecting the redness of his hair. Yet as the woman reaper walked in his direction, he leaned on the tub’s rim to back away, and caught through the corner of his eye how Grell’s wrists were split open diagonally. The water only spilled more red liquid into the tub. William tried to get up, and as he did, he saw Grell’s body float up and down with his pale flesh starting to reanimate itself backwards, and peel off. 

Grell’s laughter soon reached hysterical levels, as he began to stand up from the water again. Then William’s eyes grew in terror, seeing that same mad grin on the red one’s face when he...

 

His eyes shot open, waking up in a cold sweat. He didn’t shake or quiver, though he did push himself up to search for any remisense of Grell’s presence. He reached for his glasses and exhaled a deep breath. 

He opened the washroom door, and was relieved to see no one was there, yet still felt an unnerving feeling behind his back, as if something was wrong. 

The next minute after managing to calm himself down, somewhat, Spears put some warmer clothes on his shoulders, and pulled his box of cigarettes out of his winter coat pocket hanging from the coat rack. Lighting a match in an instant, he breathed in the herbal, musky and yet addictive scent of it, and held it in before letting the smoke puff out from his mouth. He put the roll between his teeth again, and watched the view the sun peaking out of the realm slowly rise from the horizon. The sight calmed him down, and he was thankful the brandy he drank earlier didn’t make him see stars. Leaning against his palm with his elbow holding him up on the window sill, William was trying to remember the dream, yet still after only an hour of waking up, it became foggy and surreal. He could remember Desiree, Grell bleeding in the tub, and something sentimental about him. Taking a glance at the telephone on his desk beside him, he breathed out one last puff of smoke, and sat down on his chair. He saw a piece of silky cloth sticking out from his desk drawer, opening it, and then closing it to make sure it would fall back in. Though as he was about to shut it back in, he noticed a small notepad, it’s cover made of leather with the words, “William Spears,” carved into it. 

Nostalgic waves started to pass by in his mind, making him start to relax a little. He grabbed the notebook, and opened up to see the inside of the cover, and the name Desiree Lefevre, with seven digits that made up a phone number. Sighing, still having the burnt taste of the cigarette in his mouth, he didn’t waste time to press the number into the phone’s keys, and held it to his hear, the ringing it made causing William’s heart to beat steadily. 

 

On the other side of a small gap of an ocean, a woman opened her green eyes as she heard the annoying ringing of her phone. Her bedroom seemed to be littered with pieces of scrap metal, nails, and screws, yet it didn’t seem to concern her at all. She pulled herself out of bed to look at the clock above her desk that it was six in the morning, knowing it was only an hour away from her next shift. Picking up the phone, she held it to her ear, and answered casually, “Lefevre.” 

 

The voice which came through the connection was someone she had not spoken to in awhile, much to her amazement.


	8. Desire of Will Chapter Eight

Desire of Will, Chapter Eight 

 

“Tiens?” The Reaper asked sitting herself back down onto the headboard of her bed. She didn’t hear anyone from the other end as at first, she quirked her brow in confusion, but tried again. “Allo?” 

No one seemed to be there on the other end. Must be a wrong number, Desiree thought to herself, yet about to put it back on the dial a ‘yes! Hello!’ made her put it to her ear once again. “William? Est-ce vous?” (William? Is that you?) 

 

Across the country William hurriedly stuttered, “O-oui! Ca...ca-lets, Madame Lefevre.” (Yes. it is he, Miss Lefevre.) 

 

Rubbing her fingers along the dark circles under her half lidded eyes, Desiree wanted to hear her old friend through the phone line, but it was hardly fifty minutes before she had to iron her last clean clothes, take a shower, sharpen her death scythe, and eat something to keep her going. Feeling of heaviness from her tired muscles having been awoken too soon, Desiree asked her friend in a blatant tone, “William…what a surprise.’

 

On his side of the phone, after a few moments of hesitation, he heard her voice question him, “Is everything okay?” 

“Y-Yes. Work wise at least. I apologize, Madame Lefevre for waking you up at this hour.” He apologized. 

 

Desiree may have let her skepticism over think what he was trying to tell her, but she knew her instincts were right. Having spent enough ime with him in the Paris Dispatch, during a tyrannical war nonetheless, it was easily hearable how worried his stoic voice was. She got up to sit on her desk, just across from her twin bed. Clearing her throat over the cigarettes from last night, Desiree said to him in her calmest sounding voice. 

“No...William, I’m fine.” She rubbed her eyes rather roughly. She sighed swiftly, “I needed to get up either way. I am at fifty minutes before I have to work, so, not to be insensitive, can we make this quick?” 

 

Tempted to light another cigarette in his flat, rubbing one between his finger joints, William leaned his face against his hand on his neat ladend desk. “You’re not being insensitive, Madame Lefevre. Just…” He scratched at his messy hair in slight frustration at himself. “...Maybe I’ll call you another time.” 

“What? No. William, I know you wouldn’t be wondering how I am doing so early on the other side of the the continent.” He heard her confidently stubborn voice through the line. Then he had a slight twinge of fear zap through his chest when he heard Desiree’s groaning sigh. It was relieved of the next moment when she said, “I will give you...let me check, ten minutes at the most.” 

William T. Spears was surprised at her. Though, it was probably to be expected. “Are you positive?” 

 

Stretching her lean shoulder muscles above her head, Ms. Lefevre instantly replied to him, “Of course. Care to tell me, Spears?” Leaning back onto her chair, she yawned, “What this is about, I mean.” 

He sighed, and then she heard the faint flicker of a match. That was never a good sign. At least to her hearing from someone like him. “William?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry, Desiree.” He apologized. “Though you would most likely not agree to the reason as to why I called you this early.” 

“Just tell me anyways.” She hoped it was going to work on him, even after two years since last seeing him. 

 

Covering his eyes while also slipping his smoke out from his lips to blow the toxic air out, he took a deep breath. “I had this feeling you were in danger for some...odd...unexplainable reason. I don’t know the cause of having to ask if you were alright. Perhaps...my nightmare…” 

Shit. 

 

Rising herself to sit up straight on the desk chair, his stuttered answer confused her greatly. “I’m sorry?” 

 

Christ Above. How do I explain this without looking like a twit?! 

 

“Again-again, I am so sorry apologetic to say that I woke you up for this.” William knew just then, with a heart full of raging dread at his “idiocy” in saying he called her over a nightmare, of all the ridiculous things to be worried about, he would face Desiree’s tired wrath. 

“You called me over a nightmare you had?” She asked him, surprisingly calm about it. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

For a solid thirty seconds Desiree didn’t know how to respond to what he just told her. Combing her hair with her fingers, she calmly yet forwardly said, “Just... Just tell me what happened.” 

 

Her voice was so blatant in his ears. Yet he knew he would never hear the end of it if he just put this call aside over simple embarrassment. 

“You said a moment ago you were worried I was in trouble?” Desiree asked him, sounding a tad more interested. “Is that what your dream was about?” 

“Yes. Only, you weren’t in danger. At least I assume you weren’t.” He took a small puff of his cigarette, as if to somehow get himself to remember what his horror of a dream he had less than an hour ago. 

“Can you tell me what scared you in it?” Lefevre asked through the line. 

“Yes, of course.” William began, hoping she would understand what he had to say. Taking in another puff to ready himself, as he wasn’t the best story teller. “Lord, where do I even start?” 

“Maybe what you remember first?” She stated to him. 

“Right. Of course. I believe I was hearing someone in my bathroom. Then I saw…” William held the cigarette between his teeth. 

“Saw…?” Desiree encouraged him. 

“...I-I saw...I think I saw Grell…” He confessed, though knew she would instantly understand. 

“Oh! Oh. Right, go on.” He could tell from the slight uneasiness in her voice she was beginning to understand. 

“I hardly understood as to why he was there. I thought he...anyways, he got close as to hold me. And then...before I could even question as to why or how he got into my flat, you appeared...” Bending the truth was never an option for him. Yet William knew just how much more of a problem he would cause if he told Desiree in his dream she was naked. Let alone trying to explain how he held Grell, who morphed into her. The last thing he remembered was seeing him covered in blood. He slightly shivered again, remembering that pale, freckled flesh completely exposed to him. 

Desiree’s voice cut in. “Yes? Continue.” 

“You were in front of me. You were immensely disappointed.” He answered her.

“At you, or Grell?” She asked him. 

“Me. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel as though you are, angry at me.” William put out the flaming roll in his hand. He leaned onto his hand again. “Does that sound ignorant, or selfish?” 

“Well I can somewhat understand as to why you would think that at the moment. Considering all of the drama that had occurred a few years back.” 

William sighed in regret. 

“Maybe that was an understatement. To clear things up though, no. I’m not angry at you. Then again, I’m not one for gossip, but I couldn’t help hear that you had quite the fight with him. And he made paid for it.” Desiree wasn’t known for her sensitivity towards most men. Including William T. Spears, and Grell Sutcliff. Yet he knew she intended not to insult him. 

“Yes. He and I had a rather heated argument. But that’s all over. And I don’t wish to get into another any time soon.” William firmly stated. 

“Yeesh.” She exclaimed through the line. 

“I was lucky to get out of the fight with just a few scratches on my leg.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Yet it still felt far from the truth. “I doubt he still wishes to harm me again. Yet I can’t help but wonder.” 

“What do you mean?” She asked. 

“Never mind. I guess stress has only gotten the better of me.” William sighed to himself. After what he had said to him, he doubted Sutcliff would ever consider looking in his direction afterwards.

 

Back in her own flat and sitting at her desk, Desiree Lefevre then asked him, “Are you going to be okay, William?” 

“Y-yes! Yes...I will be.” He answered her. 

“‘Will be?’ Do you know for sure?” Desiree herself wasn’t sure if he was telling her the truth. Fiddling around with the phone cord with her fingers, she asked before he could answer her question back. “No offense, but you do know you’re a very bad liar, correct?” 

“Desiree!” Will both scolded and whined, somewhat, through the phone. “Yes, I understand lying isn’t my strong suit, but isn’t that a good thing?” 

“Well yes. Arguably.” She remarked. 

 

William was millimeters away from picking up another smoke to distract himself, but something instantly changed his mind, and rubbed his temples instead. “Thank you for telling me what I already know.”

She let out a small chuckle. “Sounds to me as if no one ever told you what you know where you’re currently at, for a very long time. Guess I still have to be the one who needs to remind you. Even if we don’t work together anymore.” Desiree Lefevre had never spoken to him like that unless he either beat himself into the floor, or someone else with the same force. 

“... I understand.” He told her. 

“I wish I could, for you I mean.” She seemingly apologized. As William expected however, she instantly changed the subject much to his relief. “It’s been a little while since I talked to you like this.”

“I suppose it has.” William replied back, simply. 

Desiree then alerted to him, “I’m sorry, but I should start getting ready.” 

“Yes. Yes of course.” William answered, hardly knowing what to say back to her. 

“Listen, William, it’s really nice to hear your voice and I really appreciate you being open with me out of everyone you know.” She told him. 

“Yes?” 

Sighing through the telephone, he could hear her tired voice try to sound relaxed, “Maybe...if I can find the time in the near future, we could talk about whatever demons are haunting you. Perhaps in person? If you would like? I might have a week off by the end of November.” 

“Yes. That would be nice.” William sighed and leaned against his desk. 

“Have a good morning at work, mon petit etoile.” William smiled softly at her small name for him. 

“Thank you, Desiree.” 

“À la prochaine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desiree and William have a talk.


	9. Desire of Will Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to explain the characters actions of Grell’s and William’s problem affecting others.   
> Also, I thought Ronald deserved a little time as Grell’s noob apprentice. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Desire of Will Chapter Nine 

 

Three days later… 

 

The clashing of solid steel echoed in the reaper boy’s ears. While his aiming and moves had some amount of skill to them, his over-cut for attack came far too slow, as his mentor caught it, holding his back by the sickle’s hook. He struggled to find an opportunity to aim back, but before the boy’s eyes even met his target, the crimson haired reaper knocked his weapon into the air. He tried to aim a leg, an arm, just about anything he could offer, until the taller one who had him down gave him a jab in the chest. 

What little wind a reaper could have in them, the apprentice was down on the pavement and coughing like an asthmatic. He sighed as his mentor’s heeled shoes were approaching him in such a vulnerable state. He sighed and admitted defeat for Lord Above knows how many times he’s fallen in these training sessions. 

“Are you done moping, yet?” Grell Sutcliff scoffed. Though he held out his hand for his trainee to get him back on his feet. “You constantly fall beneath me, and you have the exact reaction to beating you into the floor.” 

“Yes.” Ronald was gasping for breath he didn’t need as he got up. He looked Grell dead in the eyes, but remembered not to show too much cheek. Especially to someone as tempered as him. “I’m sorry. I just can’t remember every single step at the same time.” 

“I’m not sure how I should to tell you, for the countless hours I need to remind you. Hesitation is what makes a reaper weak in the work field.” Grell scoffed. 

Knowing how lucky he was to see Grell simmered down from the incident since the past few days, and not in the typical “I’m smarter than you in every way,” attitude, Ronald just nodded his head and sighed. 

 

“Do you want to become a reaper, Ronald?” 

 

“Wh-why do you ask that?” He asked. 

 

“Why wouldn’t I ask? You can’t seem to keep up with any of the other trainees this year. I can’t help but think you are starting to accept an unnecessary doubt that you might want to give up.” 

 

The black haired boy of a man sulked in a saddened manner, confirming Grell’s frustrated assumptions. “I don’t wish to give up. But I’m not sure if I even have a choice.” 

 

“Exactly!” Grell said without letting Ronald respond. “You don’t have a choice because I’m not letting you do something so pathetic!”

 

“Mr. Sutcliff…” The trainee complained to his mentor. “...We’ve been through this before. You know why I was assigned to you is because a senior reaper because none of them would want to have to put up with me.” 

 

“That is not true in the slightest.” Grell scoffed to his remark. 

 

Not wishing to look into the redhead’s searing green eyes, as Ronald sadly admitted to himself that it was incredibly intimidating to his smaller stature. Though the red reaper’s assignment of having to “put up” with Knox since he first started enrollment at the academies, it wasn’t as common for Grell to constantly have to order him around like some peasant boy being forced into hard labor. If anything, it was much worse. His first six months were hellish and abusive even as Sutcliff, still more of a Junior Collector during such a time. Endless demands were made for him to do most of the things trainees in the collection department learn as third year students. Pushing him beyond his usual limits, from building hopping, running around and staying unseen in the busy streets, all within the first year. 

Knox was sure Grell hated knowing he had to train such a weak student, yet it wasn’t until less than a year ago he noticed a few improvements. He wasn’t failing any of the other three subjects, as it was mostly the athletic things he struggled with. 

Not that Grell was a good teacher, but nowadays it became clearer why Knox was given such a demanding and pressuring mentor. The red, rebellious grim reaper shook out all of the doubts he had when he first began the schooling. To become a grim reaper. 

 

Right now, even after confessing his feelings about failure approaching him, Grell always seemed to be able to scare them away with insults, and give the young man a little hope to keep moving forward. 

 

“Is it sinking in, Ronald?” Grell didn’t leave any room for him to deny it. 

“Yes, Senior Sutcliff.” He plainly answered. 

“Good. Now then…” He picked up the training scythe, as well as his own, a saw that he had regained permission to use. “...Try again.” 

 

 

Three hours earlier

It took him and Grell nearly all day to finishing retrieving assignments. Ronald glanced down at both his palms seeing that they were red from waving that sharp toy around over and over. And trying to train himself it with both hands nonetheless. Yet as he followed Grell to the main cafeteria in the facility, he felt as though he was making some sort of progress. 

“Mr. Sutcliff?” Ronald was tempted to ask him his opinion on how he really thought about his improvements. 

Grell didn’t hear him. Ronald glanced over his mentor’s shoulder, and saw William around the other side of the room. His eyes in the supervisor’s direction were angry. Angrier than his typical furiousness. Then his eyes widened and furrowed. 

“Grell? Who are you looking at?” Knox asked, but Grell just instantly stormed off without another hesitation. 

The black haired young man couldn’t see what was bothering him so much. He turned his head to see who he was looking towards. He spotted William T. Spears still standing across the cafeteria, yet he was only talking to who seemed to be another grim reaper. He was almost about to let it slide, until he noticed the other was angry at Senior William. His face was reddening with anger, and his slick back ash-blonde hair seemed to be falling out of place to the sides of his head. His pointer finger was close to William’s face, and it was as if he was attempting to yell at him. Walking step by step towards them, just trying to understand why his mentor left in such a fury, their voices, and their features still didn’t make sense. 

 

Thump! “Hey!” 

 

Ronald stumbled back and regained his balance as another youngster tried to get to the tables after getting a tray. “Excuse me.” 

The cheeky youngster only rolled his eyes and headed over to his desired table near what seemed to be the third years of the academy. 

‘Twat…’ Ronald thought. He glanced back at where he thought William was. Thankful he was still standing there in the exit hall, with whoever was now raising his voice. He vividly heard one with a baring voice echo towards him. 

‘You’re wasting my time, Officer Cromwell. Now please move along before you create another scene.’ 

‘You’re not going anywhere until you explain yourself! Why was he crying like that?! Were you responsible for it?!’ 

“No. Grell Sutcliff is responsible for his own problems.”

“Are you trying to beat him down because he was mad at you-?” 

“Shut. Up!” Grell’s voice blurted into the argument, causing the officer to back up from him, and William. “I’m not going to let you stand there and spread more rumours about me than there already are!” 

Ronald was peeking his head from behind the walls within the lunch room. Grell was about to let go of what had been done to avoid further humiliation. Yet the officer was foolishly encouraging him to attack and make a bigger scene. 

“Grell, didn’t he make you cry? I’m sorry but I am just trying to-“ 

“You good for nothing sod.” Grell mumbled under his breath. 

“Grell?!” Cromwell gasped, flabbergasted. Within seconds ten, maybe twenty pairs of eyes turned in their direction. 

Grell was about to punch his teeth down into his throat. Someone stopped him though. 

“Senior Sutcliff! I finally caught up with you! You said I had to practice training on the other side of the building?”

“Ronald.” Grell groaned.

“That’s great! I’m looking forward to it! Let’s just get going before the end of A Lunch.” Ronald spoke at lightning speed, begging his mentor to just move before he mutilated Officer Cromwell. 

Grell’s fingers were tightening as he was still before them. He hated both of the grim reapers he saw, at the moment. But he couldn’t let himself down. Or Ronald for the matter. 

“Right.” 

“Yes! Good…” Ronald bit his cheek and sighed as his mentor had sped walk right past him. Giving Senior Spears and Officer Cromwell a small bow of respect, he quickly walked to Grell without any hesitation to look back. 

Catching up to his mentor, he didn’t dare say anything cheeky. Three days ago he nearly got Grell to strangle him for being a youngster trying to catch a cinematic recorded soul. To only make things worse, as it seemed, for Grell at least, Mr. Cromwell was “being a fucking pain in the fanny” as Ronald thought to himself and he sped up to Grell across the chattering of the other reapers eating lunch together. 

Just as the pair made their way past the bustle, Grell glanced over to Ronald, causing his trainee to look away instantly out of fear of insulting him out of simply staring. 

“Knox.” Sutcliff said, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.” 

Ronald gave him a questioning glance. His mentor wasn’t known for having any apologetic nature. “I’m sorry?” 

“Don’t be.” Was all he said after. 

“A-alright. Are we going to the west training hall?” He asked, hoping he was right. 

“I’m afraid we should. You brought it up. Anyways…” He sighed moving towards the hallway to the west building. “...Let’s get going before that sod catches up with us. I can smell that asshat a mile away.” 

Ronald glanced to the walls to avoid eye contact, rubbing his gloved fingers together. “S-sure. Let’s get out of here.” The intensity was glowing around him and Ronald in the dimly lit halls.


	10. Desire of Will Chapter Ten

Desire of Will Chapter Ten: 

 

1795, London Dispatch

“Grell Sutcliff.” Lawrence Anderson bowed his head in respect to the young student in front of his office door. “Nice to see you decided to come over for a chat after all. Please, come in.”

Grell glanced at him with a bit of cheek and anger. Yet the middle aged man didn’t seem to be fazed, as he held open the door. 

“Won’t you join me?” Asked Anderson. 

“Sure.” He shrugged and walked in. 

Sitting down on the chair across from Mr. Anderson, Grell inspected the room for a reason that just came instinctively to him. He folded his arms and crossed his legs, showing outwardly he was not wanting to see him, or discuss anything important. 

Lawrence pulled out his top desk drawer and straightened up a stack of blank paper, and brought out a quill and ink. 

The redhead couldn’t believe it. Was he really going to probe him like this? 

Clearing his throat, and straightening his glasses, he informed, “The lead director of the Ethics courses, informed me he believes you have been acting unorthodox and even had perverse behavior among your peers. Also, possibly possessing a dysfunctional mind?” Anderson questioned, though to Grell it all seemed as if he was only listing his problems many accused on him. “Though, I doubt that is the case.” 

“Might as well tell me what I know.” Grell snided. 

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’m more worried for your grades. According to my research,” Opening up his lower desk drawer, the director of classes and spectacles, listed Grell’s information given to him. “You have a ninety-five percent score in Wielding, and unfortunately, Ethics, and Essays are at sixty-four and forty-one. Your teachers have even informed me if they don’t go up, we might interfere with your school schedule.” He adjusted his spectacles, and cleared his throat. 

Grell could only avoid eye contact with the elder grim reaper. He had enough concerning ideas flooding his thoughts. Anything getting out through his lips, and he would be hoisted to the Mental Institution. 

Not as if he believed he didn’t want to. Maybe...he could go there to avoid his troubles, and-

“Mr. Sutcliff? Mr. Sutcliff.” Anderson urged the young man to answer him. “Can you tell me what has been happening?” 

“Why exactly do you need to know? I thought you just make glasses and give them to reapers when they earn a title.” 

“That’s partially my job as a grim reaper. However, one of your teachers thought I would be able to talk some sense into you. Your scythe wielding teacher, Mr. Tumnes?” 

Grell soon stiffened up in his chair. “That old goat? He wants to send me off to be some other professor’s issue.” 

“Grell, let's not be hasty. You know that’s not true. Though…” Mr. Lawrence pondered. “...I can’t help but feel as though you might be stretching the truth. Is there anything he was doing that might have made you, or maybe another student, struggle?” 

Placing his hands behind his neck with his elbows sticking up, Grell couldn’t imagine letting his counselor go any deeper into his mind. Not that he was close to begin with. 

“Grell, please. There are easier classes in which could help you out with your credits to graduate this academy. If that is the case.” 

“Oh? You think my grades are down because I’m not smart enough? I’d rather kiss an old man’s ass before I would move to a lower rate class!” 

“There is no need to yell, Mr. Sutcliff.” He raised his hand to make sure he wouldn’t have an excuse to fight back. Dealing with the rowdy students and staff, if there was anything Lawrence knew was to not fight. Remaining calm seemed to pinpoint the uptight sophomore. 

“I wasn’t yelling. I raised my voice.”

“That’s good you can specify the differences, but this is my office. I would appreciate if you could follow my rules.” 

“Whatever.” Grell wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t going to have any of this bullshit. 

Setting aside his papers between a small silence, the man reached into his top desktop drawer, and held out a match box, cigarettes, and a handful of hard candies. “You wouldn’t mind if I smoke?” 

“No.” 

“Thank you. Would you like one?” 

Grell glanced in surprise, not sure if he should have been expecting this.

“Sorry. I understand if smoking is a bit of a problem. I have some fruit lozenges if you’d prefer that.” He suggested, placing the small candies into a glass bowl. 

“Uh...thanks.” He snatched two of them, and unwrapped one before popping one into his mouth. He really didn’t think a supervisor...counselor-teacher...whoever, would offer him a smoke. Not that he would have liked one anyways. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way.” The elder one apologized. 

“It’s not as if you’re going to make me say anything you want to hear.” Scoffed Grell.

“In all honesty, I called you from after class to understand if you and other younger generation students are doing better, considering the changes in environment and other things. From previous lives I mean.”

“...Really?” He raised an unamused brow. 

“Yes, really. I’ve only talked to a handful of others,” Lawrence said, puffing our some smoke, “And you of course, and despite having another job as a craftsman here, I thought it would be a good idea to understand the younger ones that enter the school.” 

“Really?” Grell asked again, even more unamused, but convinced he was telling the truth. “You want to get to know me?” 

“Only if you allow it.” He complied. 

Glancing to his left at the clock, then back to the counselor, Grell sighed, and sat up straight in his seat. “When did they say I could leave?” 

“Until six o'clock. Less than an hour.” He assured the student. 

Smirking softly, Grell sighed, nodded to him, and uncrossed his leg. 

 

 

Here and there, Grell and Lawrence Anderson were only cooperating with small talk. While Grell was attempting to sweep him under the rug with stories of his own takedowns in classes, since that seemed to be all he was into, he did rather enjoy bragging. As if he didn’t ask to know much, Grell couldn’t help but lighten up a tad more. Lawrence listened to him, apparently. Dare to say, he laughed at his jokes about how uptight his teachers and fellow classmates were. Based on the others who surrounded him he claimed he was the only person trying to be ‘creative.’ How classy and civilized grim reapers acted these days, but stole souls from meaningless people who are dying. 

“It’s not as though change is unfamiliar in grim traditions.” Anderson said while writing his notes down. 

“I’m not sure I want them to change. More if they just die already.” Grell giggled as he found his joke funny. 

“Why do you feel that way of traditional exercises?” 

“They are all so pointless. Ethics hardly ever teaches me anything. All humans are meant to die. Might as well just get the job done and clear them off for death.” 

“Hmm. You don’t see points to them. Why not just tell your teacher to try something new within reason?” 

“Ha! What a joke. I’m a troublemaker, and Mr. Tumnes lost all hope since last semester.” 

“Does that mean you don't have a voice in your class?” He asked, rather concerned. 

“Oh I have a voice. They just hate it.” He joked. 

Though to Mr. Anderson, it wasn’t amusing. He wrote on his pad of paper, and glanced at the rebellious student. It started to worry him more about Sutcliff acting nonchalant about his actions. “Do you think you might regret what you said to your peers, and the staff? Or do you feel you may have had the right?” 

Grell couldn’t hold in his snickering. “What I said?” Crossing his legs, his voice immediately lost humor. “You ask them what they told me. To my face nonetheless. Not as if I couldn’t not get blamed for what I could say against those sods.” 

Setting his quill alongside the paper sheets, the middle aged man rested his chin on his entwined fingers held up by his elbows. “Even if one may not believe you, do you think you could maybe tell me?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“If it bothers you, you can just tell me, and I’ll be willing to listen.” 

Not seeing any tolerance for disobedience, Grell twirled one of his long haired red locks in his already trimmed haircut, and scoffed while glancing the other way. Though he knew there was no way out of it, or else he would end up having to talk to his wretched Ethics teacher. 

“Fine. Don’t expect me to pour my heart out.”

“No need to worry. I don’t plan for you to.” He assured him. 

 

While there wasn’t much to discuss, it eventually came to an end as the whole hour passed. 

Just as Grell was about to walk his way down the stairs to the back exit, without being able to hear his perpetrator behind him, his mouth was covered by a large, black gloved hand, and held up against the other reaper’s chest. 

“What did you tell him?!” The raspy, foul smelling lips demanded in a harsh whisper. 

Removing his hand, not fazed in the slightest, Grell responded, “That depends. What do you want me to tell you?” 

“Do I need to demote you again?! Tell me what you told him!”


	11. Desire of Will, Chapter Ten pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: 
> 
> This chapter contains mature and conflicting subjects such as rape, abusive relationships, and technical underaged sex. Reader’s discretion is advised. 
> 
> Forgive me for taking nearly six whole months to write this second part of one chapter. I have finally gained enough confidence.

WARNING: 

This chapter contains mature and conflicting subjects such as rape, abusive relationships, and techincal underaged sex. Reader’s discretion is advised. 

 

1795, Dispatch London 

 

It felt wrong. His feelings and senses were starting to go off the rails, and it continued to roll off the tongue, literally. He started to choke and moved forward to see how much further he could make room in his throat, but it came up and the youth couldn’t handle it. Sputtering as it flew out, droplets of saliva dropping to his bare knees as well as the floor. Coughing to make sure nothing sour was swallowed, the pressure to continue only got worse.   
There was no true escape from this situation, but the student knew that all too well. Not wanting to go back, taking it in as a challenge rather than accepting he was forced into doing this, the skin was placed over his tongue, swirling it around as if he was full of desire. After all, a man on top of another man wasn’t what he was ashamed of. The being he was with however, was what. 

 

~

Desire of Will Chapter Ten, pt. 2

Mr. Tumnes stood there, glaring like a church statue above the youngster. The stone stairs and drafty exit made the tone of the encounter with his teacher colder than he would have liked. But there really wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Smirking at him as he finished asking, no, demanding to inform him of what was meant to be between the student and Mr. Anderson, he scoffed. “Why must you ask me these questions?” He questioned sarcastically. 

“I need to make sure you whether you want your grades to stay the way they are.” 

“Never imagined you would be so desperate to hide in a dark corner to keep your secrets safe.” 

It was then the other smiled in a way Grell could only fear. He walked up to the youthful student as he was standing his ground. 

“Oh? What secret?” Mr. Tumnes shifted his arms with that pathetic smirk. “I think it’s clear that you can only imagine keeping it hidden in such a way.” 

Grell couldn’t deny his words. He didn’t even know what he should do anyway. But neck deep in the situation, he felt as though he couldn’t fight him. 

“Do I need to hand you the pictures I promised you? I’m sorry I didn’t give them to you after class today.” 

“No. Is that your biggest concern? Because I’m afraid pictures aren’t going to cut it this time, unless you want me to keep quiet.” He snided. 

“I don’t need you to keep quiet. It’s my word against yours, especially if you try to go-!” Grell spoke, startled for a second to see Tumnes covering his mouth, feigning his snickers. “What’s so funny?! You think it’s funny to get caught? For harassing-!”

“And who would believe you?” A young man’s voice echoed from behind Grell’s hearing. Turning around, his eyes widened at seeing a familiar, but not welcomed classmate of his. Wanting to run and forget the “deal” he admitted he signed up to, for a moment, Sutcliff thought he regretted coming down here to speak with his teacher. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you thought I would come here alone.” Tumnes snided, and got ahold of the youngster’s shoulders, squeezing his coat pads tightly. “Then again, you aren’t exactly a bright student of mine.” 

He felt his red hair being poked by the elder professor’s nose, hearing and sensing the air sucking into his nostrils. Shivering, Grell let him do it, his eyes shooting open hearing his classmate’s cackling. 

“You have him quivering, Mr. Tumnes. I never thought you were being serious with him.” He cackled not holding it in. 

Grell flinched when the fellow trainee walked forward. “Don’t fucking try me, Franco. I’m not scared of you!” 

“And yet you look as though you’re about to wet yourself.” This “Franco” character scoffed, and leaned forward. “I knew you were a disgusting bully, but I never could see you as a bitch. Especially for ugly, hairy old men. Did you get Andrewson to let you out easily today?” He pinched his cheek as Tumnes’ hand cupped his throat. 

That was it. Grell kicked the old man off, and punched Franco square in his nose. Seeing them both covering up their inflicted, probably bruised area, he stood there bewildered, but balled up his fists, and said, “I can only let you both get away with so much.” 

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, but took a deep breath seeing Franco wipe his nose with his sleeve, blood dripping from the black fabric of the outfit. 

Grell could swear if his glare could kill, he would drop dead flat on his ass. With his quavering hot breath he said, “I know what I signed up for. But don’t you dare think I’m a toy you can abuse, or bend over, or destroy!” 

Franco and Mr. Tumnes were unfazed, yet they knew how serious he was. Considering the five foot, seven inch student could knock them both down, maybe even worse, they weren’t idiots to try and cross him like that again. 

Grell folded his arms together. “Am I clear? I promise I’ll keep quiet if you don’t push me around.” His voice was fiercer than a moment ago. 

The pair were silent for a long minute. Tumnes stood up straight, sighing, “Fine. I should have expected you wouldn’t take our fling seriously anyways. You and your childish, perverted needs don’t tend to meet my demands.” 

“They can meet mine, but I don’t like boys who bite.” Franco huffed. “I’ll keep quiet by the way, if you give me those pictures you promised.” 

Shuddering, the redheaded boy nodded, and the other student left. Tumnes stood where he was until Grell figured he wouldn’t be leaving unless he got something in return. 

“You’ll get those pictures. Just give me another day or two.” Pleading to be able to head back to his dorm. 

The elder teacher grunted in saying, “Fine. Any excuses however, I’m not hiding the bruises you obviously gave me.” 

“Yes...I understand. I’m sorry…” 

Apologizing wasn’t going to cut it. Grell knew that, but as his teacher at last left him alone after sniffing his hair and almost letting his rough hands touch his neck, going past the back door to the stairway, walking out into the dorm buildings’ suburbs on the hard concert, wet from the current rain drizzling over the reaper apprentice’s dark red hair, he stopped right in his tracks. 

He couldn’t be so ashamed of his explicit actions with that gross old man, and worst of all, his own classmate. With that in his mind, rain, he thought, stung his eyes and trickled down his cheeks over his chin. 

Who would believe you, Grell Sutcliff? He told himself before returning to walking to his dorm, without another thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So...for the chapters 1-5 I kind of gave Grell female pronouns, but I’m going to start using male pronouns for him, starting after chapter 6.


End file.
